


how will I find all the traces you left

by Lise (thissugarcane)



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Betrayal and forgiveness, F/M, Hopeful Ending, KotFE spoilers, Near Death, Onslaught spoilers (sort of), Post-Star Wars: The Old Republic - The Nathema Conspiracy, Spoilers, Star Wars: The Old Republic - The Nathema Conspiracy Spoilers, Star Wars: The Old Republic - War for Iokath Spoilers, chaotic neutral inquisitor, fallout from Nathema, neutral Alliance, supply chain management ftw, unstable Force powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:16:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 28,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26915005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thissugarcane/pseuds/Lise
Summary: Darth Nox has to find a way to survive this. Somehow. Set directly after Nathema, huge spoilers. Complete."Pull my life force," Nox growled, and abruptly sagged onto the floor, kneeling, head bowed to stare at the mossy stone. She could sense Lana wanted to argue, and she repeated, "do it."Lana didn't argue, didn't make another sound in the interim; Nox inhaled, exhaled, felt her teeth grind together and listened to the eerie silence until the heavy whine of the shuttle's engines heralded salvation.
Relationships: Female Sith Inquisitor/Theron Shan, Lana Beniko & Female Sith Inquisitor, Lana Beniko & Theron Shan, Sith Inquisitor/Theron Shan
Comments: 4
Kudos: 111





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Story is complete! I'm just waiting for a few chapters back from the beta. Will post every few days until done.
> 
> Possible cw: thoughts of self-harm. Also, thoughts of harming others in a sith-way.
> 
> Takes a lot from the ending of the Nathema Conspiracy, but also mashes in a bunch from the end of Jedi Under Siege. Major spoilers for everything, especially Iokath, Nathema, and all that jazz. Title from "Grace" by the Crash, thank you musefool for the shuffle title trick.
> 
> Re: 'canon' choices, tl:dr basically everyone who could be alive and recruited is, mostly LS, backed Acina on Iokath. Basically: while I liked the Nathema wrap-up it didn't feel like enough denouement, so I extended the reconciliation. Also, sort of a fix-it for a true-neutral Alliance, because I heart grey-alignment swtor way more than Republic or Empire. Finally: there's one mention of the Inquisitor's "real" name, but pretty much everywhere else I use "Nox", if that matters.

Lana was the one to say it, but Nox had been thinking it even as she poured her rage and fear and-- and everything into destroying the machine, long after Atrius and GEMINI 16 and the power cells were silent.

"He's not going to make it without immediate medical attention," Lana ground out.

Nox halted, froze in place where she'd been alternating between throwing lightning and hurling whatever broken pieces of stone and metal she could find at the dead machine. Not going to make it. Wouldn't last. Would be _dead_ \--

"Pull my life force," Nox growled, as she abruptly sagged to the floor, kneeling, head bowed to stare at the mossy stone. She could sense Lana wanted to argue. " _Do it,_ " she repeated.

Lana didn't argue, didn't make another sound in the interim; Nox inhaled, exhaled, felt her teeth grind together and listened to the eerie silence until the heavy whine of the shuttle's engines heralded salvation.

-

Theron made it to the shuttle.

Lana pulled her on board, then stared into Nox's face. "Are you--"

"Don't," Nox cut herselfelf off sharply, then jutted her chin to Theron. He was pale, too pale. "Stay with him," Nox said. "Whatever happens-- just, keep your eye on him."

Lana breathed out, troubled, but mercifully nodded. Nox had no healing ability, no measure of anything to give, so she retreated the scant few feet away from where two medics were already slapping kolto patches onto Theron's ribs, hissing at the wound in his gut. "It's cauterized, that's good, he should stay stable until--" Nox heard, before her hearing whited out in blind panic and fury.

Sith fed on anger, proudly displayed their hatred and rage. No one wanted to discuss how fear was nearly as powerful an emotion. Lana raised her voice, said, "Commander!" and Nox pulled her hands down to her sides, as her terror started to rock the shuttle as it blasted into orbit.

The next three hours were a blur as the shuttle made it through hyperspace and back to Odessen, straight to their medical facilities.

Nox followed the medical bed, followed behind Lana. She followed all the way until they hit the surgery, where Lana stopped her with an impatient, "You need to let them work, you'll just be in the way."

Nox didn't know what her face was doing, unmasked, but the startled, fearful looks of her people as they scurried away said they saw her anger only. Perhaps it was just that Lana never led; she was always the one following, and so the natural order of their tenuous hierarchy had been upended.

Nox choked out a bitter laugh, cut herself off; Umbara did that. She'd done that all on her own and now, standing in front of the surgery theatre, the smoked glass not allowing her to watch the process... no. Probably best she couldn't see, wouldn't watch if he--

"My lord," one of the medical personnel, Imperial, said hesitantly. "My lord?"

They only called her 'lord' when Nox was truly frightful. Damnit. This had to be done carefully. Nox shook off the blur, inhaled. Forcibly relaxed her face-- failed at relaxing. Double-damn. At least it was an Imperial, small mercies; they'd have had some experience with angry Sith, and would hold steady in the face of it.

"Yes?" Nox managed to say. She forced out, "And Commander is fine."

"Yes, my lord," the doctor responded. Nox must be radiating fury, for one of her people to forget themselves so thoroughly as to ignore her new title and continue to revert to Imperial deference. "Are you in need of medical attention?"

"I'm fine," Nox replied. "How is -- how is..."

She couldn't say his name.

The doctor took a half-step back, before visibly steeling herself. "He is in surgery, my lord," she said, voice neutral, no inflection whatsoever. Quiet. As if Nox might take her fury out on whoever was in front of her. Had she not proven she was not that type of Sith? Was she truly so far gone that they were afraid--

No. Survive this, regret if possible.

Nox clenched her fist. She would not kill this woman for being the bearer of bad news, whether the woman knew it or not. She would apologize later. Now, though-- "Can Lana leave, can you send her out? I need to--"

Nox couldn't finish that sentence, but the doctor latched onto the excuse for an exit, nodding gratefully. "Lord Beniko did an admirable job keeping the patient from, that is. Yes, I'll send her to speak with you."

With that, the doctor spun and fled back into the medical unit. Nox still felt one step away from tearing whole ships apart, and couldn't blame the woman.

-

"I thought you told me to keep my eye on him," Lana said. Nox whirled around wildly, startled and ready to fight, hand outstretched and lightsaber up; Lana just held up her hands. "Easy," she said.

Nox stared, before shaking her head. Put away the saber. Her eyes darted around; they were not in private, not here, but she couldn't bear to move away from this spot. It was as close as she could get to the surgery, and so here was where she would stay.

"Commander?" Lana asked carefully.

Nox suddenly felt as if she were back in that damned Sith tomb fighting, struggling, and failing to stop Thanaton from killing her, the first time. No, the second time? She'd -- the galaxy take _everything_ , she'd already _died_ , _repeatedly_ , must she lose this too?

"Commander," Lana repeated, softly, but didn't seem to know what else to say.

Nox shook her head, again. Theron was in surgery; he was not dead. This was not the time to fall apart, even if she'd won some of her fiercest battles half-sane and mad with desperation. Desperation may have been her salvation more times than Nox could count, but this was the important matter -- this was the _only_ thing that mattered: here and now, it wouldn't save him.

So. Put it away. Shove it down. Nox shook out her hands, still vibrating with adrenaline, felt herself start to sag once more -- energy near gone. But not yet. 

She stepped toward Lana, leaned in and pitched her voice as low as she could to say, "I need you to be there when I can't. Even the Alliance will want to crucify him, Lana--"

Damnation. She couldn't keep the desperation out of her voice.

Lana's expression softened. "I know," she admitted.

"I can't-- I _can't_ , Lana."

It said nothing at all, it was a drop in an endless ocean of everything, but maybe it was enough because Lana frowned, eyes calculating. "We can't release him," she whispered. "Not yet. But he's injured; we can't hold a trial."

A trial. Where they'd force a spy, who thrived in the shadows, who needed to appear inconspicuous, to speak of all his transgressions. It would likely ruin him.

He was already ruined. Nox nodded.

"Short term," Lana was whispering, "I'll ensure he's never alone, which should pacify everyone." Sardonically, she added, "No one is going to question my loyalty. Not now. And no one will ask why I'm guarding him; they'll reach their own conclusions."

Nox was overcome with the urge to cling to Lana; she folded her forearms together and gripped her elbows so tightly she could feel the nails in her skin. "And then?"

Lana reached out, pressed a palm to Nox's clenched hand. The small gesture almost broke Nox; she gripped herself tighter. Not now, she could not take the comfort Lana was offering. Possibly never, but definitely not now. 

Lana dropped her hand, but asked, "Are you all right, Commander? The healing I did, and what happened... it took a lot from you."

Instead of telling the truth that was too terrible to say out loud -- that no, Nox was not all right, she was hollowed out, raw, and bleeding from every edge -- and instead of lying -- which Nox did not want to do, not to Lana -- she told her, "Go. I'll, I'll be here, until there's word."

And after, she thought, but didn't say. Lana nodded, looking sad. "Of course, Commander," she replied, and Nox had never felt so grateful to her for not pressing.

No one talked about how grief and sorrow were powerful enough emotions to break you, as well or better than hate -- but Nox knew it far too well.

-

Once her vision stopped being quite so red and hazy at the edges, Nox could sense the doctors beyond the glass, their razor-sharp focus on their patient. She couldn't tell if things were going well, per se, but the lack of panic emanating from the room was... Well, it was something. 

Lana's signature in the Force was muted, as usual, but Nox could tell all her senses were on Theron, too. That was more reassuring.

Lana would come and tell her if-- if there was something she needed to know.

A crew member came to deliver a hot tray of food, which Nox ignored, and a cup of caf, which she gulped at greedily. She would not fall asleep until...

Until.

Theron had been stabbed five hours ago, she'd last slept two days prior, and Nox was barely conscious when Lana came out and gave her a small smile. It was enough.

Nox waved her over, trying to suck in air, trying to internalize: the worst hadn't happened. Theron would live. "Precautions," she said to Lana, voice hoarse, mouth dry, throat parched. 

Lana looked behind her, where the doctors were cleaning up the surgery -- Nox could see it through the open medical doors. She approached, murmured to Nox, "What are your orders, Commander?"

Nox felt desperation shudder through her; knew right now, her wild emotions were so strong they could fuel enough power to rip the base from the mountain and fling it into the canyons below. This clinging need was both her greatest weakness, and a terrible, terrible strength; she didn't have it in her to hide.

She choked out the bare truth to Lana. "I cannot live, if he doesn't-- I don't know what to-- the two of you are the only ones who--"

She pressed her lips closed tightly; shook her head. Nox could feel lightning crackling along her spine and fingers, couldn't control it. Lana, glancing at Nox's hands, had to be able to sense it too.

Lana said, voice low but fierce, "I won't let you down, not in this," and her ringing certainty, Nox could sense in the Force, and it made Nox shudder again. Easier, Lana added, "You need to rest, Commander. I have things under control. I won't sleep until you're up again. I won't let my guard down." 

Lana promised, "I won't leave his side," and Nox finally let herself stumble away to her quarters, and pass out.

-

An insistent beeping woke Nox far too early; she still felt hollow, still felt exhausted -- but, there it was, good. The raw, wildest emotions were tamped down.

She was no longer in danger of accidentally exploding the base, ruining the Alliance with her lack of control over her powers. So. It was time to rise. There was no time for her to pull herself together more than that.

Her quarters were too far from the medical suite for Nox to have any sense of Lana's mood, or the doctors’, but the sensation of life around her, the bright spots of beings in the Force gave her the strength to get up and get ready for the day -- the Alliance needed a Commander in full possession of herself, not the wild, helpless apprentice that Nox felt like.

She had little patience for most Jedi teachings (why be numb, why cut yourself off from love and attachments; they were what made life interesting) but the ability to sense other beings, and the knowledge they were loyal to you, that they would not turn--

She cut that thought off at the pass. Loyalty may never be a given again. If she were a Jedi, that thought would have driven her mad.

As it stood, Nox was just tired.

The looks on her crew members' faces as Nox strode through the halls of Odessen base were cautious smiles, concerned looks, but the officers would meet her eyes again: good. Fury and fear, contained.

She couldn't afford to lose control. If she couldn't wrest control of the situation, and now, Theron could well lose everything. And Nox with him.

Coming to medical, Nox could sense Lana and breathed out in relief: she was concerned, but cautious, watchful. Nothing had happened. Nox, in deference to the doctors and medical droids bustling about the place, walked carefully, slow, made sure not to bump equipment or disturb other patients' rest. Too many of her soldiers were still in recovery -- but, they would recover.

Nox went into the isolation room where Theron lay, but couldn't bear to look at him, not yet.

"Commander," Lana said, inclining her head in a quick bow where she sat beside Theron; it was deferential, but mostly it was an acknowledgement. Lana could sense Nox was mostly in command of her powers.

"What's his status?" Nox asked. She busied herself frowning at the machines beeping at Theron's side, peering at readouts as if she understood the first thing about healing.

Lana stood, put a hand on Nox's shoulder. "He's stable. I authorized the doctors to put him in the kolto tank last night. They, weren't sure you would have approved, but I pushed the issue. They pulled him out about an hour ago because our kolto isn't infinite. Now, it's just time and patience. They think he'll recover well."

So. Not a ringing endorsement; he should have been in the tank much longer. But, Theron was stable, and would recover. "Functionality?" Nox asked, looking at Lana, turning so Theron's face was only visible out of the corner of her eye.

He was too pale, too fragile, even with the oxygen mask covering his face.

Lana pursed her lips. "They're hopeful, but until he's awake there's no way to be sure if this will affect his abilities. I doubt he'll accept anything less than a full recovery, though."

Nox nodded thoughtfully. It was not the first time Theron had been gravely injured, and he never showed any signs of previous wounds when he fought. Given time and space, he'd push himself harder than anyone else would.

She couldn't put it off any longer, and turned to stare at him. Theron, hooked up to medical sensors and beeping machines and any number of fluids. Nox didn't know what any of it did, but she had to rely on all of it to keep him breathing.

He was shackled to the medical bed, as well. 

"And the restraints?" she asked.

Lana frowned, glancing around. "It seemed prudent, given who may be in and out. They can't complain we aren't taking precautions, this way."

Nox gritted her teeth, but forced herself still. This, too, was part of protecting him, but she didn't have to like it. 

"You can speak freely, Commander," Lana said, voice low. "I've swept for bugs. Twice."

"Much good that's been doing us." Lana looked chagrined, ashamed, and Nox immediately hated herself a little. "Lana, no. I didn't mean it." Nox forced herself to continue. "Theron, he-- he didn't know how they were watching, either."

"I should have known," Lana said, clipped.

Nox shrugged. "So should I. We move on, or die." She dropped her gaze back to Theron; now that she knew he'd recover, Nox wasn't sure she could look away. "I don't want him to wake up shackled," she admitted quietly. "I don't like -- he doesn't deserve that."

"It wouldn't be my first choice," Lana said. "But better shackled in medical, than somewhere else. Better here than in a cell, which is where your soldiers would put him."

There was truth in that, too, and Nox, for a moment, hated everything about the Alliance. Then she shoved it away. "What's next?"

Lana stood up straighter, once more her right hand, the one in charge of all the things Nox couldn't do on her own. The professional. "Rumours are already flying around the base," she told Nox. "Usually I'd have had Theron squash-- well. We need to do something to address them."

"I really don't want to have to make another announcement," Nox replied. "I... I don't think I can lie about this," she murmured.

"I don't think a public broadcast will be effective anyway," Lana reassured her. "In this case, the galactic confusion will help: was Theron on assignment this whole time? Was your previous denouncement to muddy the waters, help his cover? No one will know, and that works for us and for him. We can bend it to suit us. But the people on Odessen, your officers..."

"Alliance personnel deserve some of the truth, I suppose," Nox allowed.

"Exactly. Plus, they... saw, you, these last few months. They'll know it wasn't, that he wasn't simply in deep cover. So if we don't address this -- really address this -- Theron will never again have a place here. People here trusted him like they trust you, from the beginning. We have to fix this."

Nox knew, she knew that, but most of her still wanted to take Theron, and her ship, and run to the edge of Wild Space.

Except Odessen _was_ the edge of Wild Space, and she'd run out of galaxy to hide in.

Nox sucked in a breath. She had to. Theron-- he deserved this from her. If nothing else. "What do I do?"

Lana's eyes glittered. "I'll call your heads together. Here's the plan."

-

With Sana-Rae still on Voss, Nox had supposed her little contingent of multi-talented Force users would slowly dwindle, so she was gratified when Senya came to the meeting room along with Xalek and Choza, the Ithorian Jedi who'd taken on the other padawans. Xalek was still a brutal Sith of few words, and Choza was a serene Jedi who talked altogether too much; but they stood beside one another without open hostility.

Nox gulped. She'd done this, somehow; she could pull off Theron's exoneration.

Lana, standing tall beside her, murmured, "Steady, Commander."

Quietly, Nox muttered back, "You're going to stop me from doing anything foolish, right?"

Lana had the audacity to chuckle as she replied, "When have I ever been able to stop you doing anything?"

Either Aygo had heard Lana as he came into the meeting room, or he had a good sense of where things were going, because he nodded to Nox, saying, "Commander. I'm glad we're doing this. We need to deal with everything that's happened."

Nox didn't spike lightning, but it was close. She tamped down her emotions, struggling; perhaps a few Jedi tricks would be useful, after all. Controlling her more unruly emotions, to unleash them when convenient... no. No matter how hard she tried, that was and would never be, her strong suit.

Thankfully, the rest of her specialists and commanders filed in behind Aygo, distracting Nox. 

Beside her, Lana murmured, "You're going to survive this, Commander," before taking her seat. Nox only hoped she was right.


	2. Chapter 2

Lana, without preamble, began the meeting by saying, "I'm sure you can all guess why we're here. By now the rumours are out: yes, Theron Shan was working with the cultist group called the Order of Zildrog, seemingly infiltrating them to send us data to stop their plans. He claims it was his efforts that lead the Commander and myself to Nathema, in order to destroy another machine god. He was critically injured in the fight against their leader, and brought to Odessen for treatment."

Nox stood beside Lana, arms crossed, as Lana outlined the basics of their previous mission: the listening post, Nathema, the great machine, the Gravestone, GEMINI 16. She gave them the evidence factually, without embellishment and yet seeding little pieces of doubt about Theron's betrayal. Most of the people here were nodding thoughtfully, concern showing, rather than anger; and that was why Lana was conducting the briefing, not Nox.

Nox didn't want to speak, she didn't want to be here at all. She wanted, desperately, to be back in medical.

Some of her petulance must have shown, because Bey'wan looked at her as Lana asked if there were any questions. "Commander, how are you holding up?"

Nox gritted her teeth. Lana interrupted. "Not relevant to the discussion right now," she said, to the table at large. 

Good, Nox thought, they didn't have time for her to have a tantrum, no matter how good it may feel. She had to keep herself in check. Asking after her welfare wouldn't make that easier.

"Due respect, Beniko, but I think it's a relevant--"

Nox held a hand up. "I sustained minor injuries," she replied, forcing her voice to stay neutral. "Admittedly," she added, injecting some dark humour into her tone, "the fourteen hours of sleep last night was a necessary evil after being up too many days in a row. But I'm--"

She couldn't say fine.

She had to be fine.

Nox said, "I'm fine."

"Regardless," Lana cut in, "You all must have questions and concerns, and the Commander would like to deal with them sooner rather than later."

Kaliyo, who'd refused a seat at the table to lean menacingly -- or what she must have thought was menacingly -- on the wall behind Major Jorgen, asked, "Is the Commander unable to talk herself?"

Nox felt Lana's Force signature light up bright with fury, before she muted it. "I'm doing what I've always done, which is be at the Commander's right hand."

"Then why'd you even bring Shan back to Odessen?" Kaliyo shot back. She threw a hand up in the air, impatient. "Leave him to die, save resources, solve the problem! If you ask me--"

Lana turned her head to look at Nox, face concerned. She glanced down to Nox's hand, which was -- yes. Damn it.

Nox let out a breath, slowly, stared at the hilt of her lightsaber clutched in her hand and held out in a fighting stance. She'd nearly lit it, too, just at Kaliyo's words. This was worse than she'd thought; she couldn't control herself at all.

Well. Damn.

Plan A, careful manipulation, was out the window. Nox would blow under the strain.

Plan B, then.

Lana watched her -- the entire room watched her -- as Nox dropped her arm, hilt still in hand. "Allow me to remind all of you," she said, letting out a fraction of the fury and rage she'd been unsuccessfully bottling up, "that the entirety of this Alliance rests upon my will. The traitor--"

Nox swallowed down the lump in her throat; she didn't have to manufacture anger or desperation. Theron was unconscious, in medical, and they'd left him there. Alone. He was vulnerable, and her people--

She clutched her hand around her lightsaber hilt, felt the lightning crackle along her arm.

"His betrayal was mine, therefore his fate is _mine_ ," Nox said -- and right then, she realized: that was the ultimate truth, the only thing her Alliance needed to know.

How she felt about Theron didn't matter. Only this.

Lana dared to put a hand on Nox's arm, the one not holding the lightsaber, and said, "I'm sure they understand, Commander."

Nox nodded, shortly, slumped a little. This fury was exhausting to hold onto even as she couldn't let it go; the grief of near-loss, the terror, too bright in her heart. She'd burn out, quite literally.

All at once Nox sagged into the chair left empty for her and tossed her lightsaber onto the table. "You're here," she said, "because I understand you have concerns, and questions. Voice your concerns. But know this: I may ignore all of you. This is _personal_ ," she admitted, choked out.

Plan B was to give her people enough of the truth to understand how far she'd go to keep Theron -- whether to mete out his punishment, or keep him from harm, they didn't need to understand. Only accept.

Kaliyo, showing more daring than most, just licked her lips, before saying, "Okay, well fine then. If it were me, I wouldn't have bothered to save him. That's all I was saying."

Lana shot back, "You've played multiple sides with every person you've encountered. How is this different?"

"Yeah, so I wouldn't have a lot of trust for someone who did the same thing," Kaliyo said. "But the Commander's right: it's on her, so." 

So Kaliyo, shrugging, had accepted whatever happened didn't matter. Lana nodded once. "Anyone else?"

Doctor Oggurobb waved his arms around, agitated enough his bulk wobbled. "I have important experiments to return to, Commander!" he announced. "You will decide Agent Shan's fate, I will keep working in the lab, nothing else is relevant." 

Nox blinked. Well, that was, a take, anyway. "Dismissed, Doctor?" she offered, and watched, bemused, as the Hutt hurried away. Well, hurried as fast as a Hutt could move.

Aygo frowned, looking at Nox before turning to Lana. "How sure were you that he was honest, Beniko? About being on our side the whole time I mean."

This was the dangerous question, and Nox was grateful he'd asked Lana instead of her; she couldn't bear it. Lana was a better liar, too -- and the truth was, Nox _wasn't_ sure. 

Wasn't sure if she cared, moreover, which was worse.

"We'll have to investigate, but the evidence does add up," Lana told him, voice thoughtful. "While I'm not completely convinced," which Nox knew to be a lie -- she'd seen Lana's face as Nox hesitated for a split second before she'd ordered Theron's evac-- "I'm willing to hear him out, check his claims. Looking at the facts rationally, it makes sense."

Choza spoke up next, surprisingly, Nox's translator pitching in to render the Ithorian's speech for her. "Is there a chance someone could read his intentions?"

"Theron's always been able to block me any time I've tried reading his mind," Lana said, regret obvious in her voice. "I don't know if anyone would have better luck."

"You might have a Knight try it," Senya spoke up. "Or my son. He's strong, and not trained in the same way as Shan would have learned to block."

Lana frowned, then turned to Nox. "Commander?"

What would she say, if she weren't near incoherent with helpless terror? What would the pragmatic thing be, what would Lana say?

"Someone will question him, once he's conscious," Nox replied, and was pleased when her voice didn't shake at all. Theron would gain consciousness. He would be aware enough to answer questions-- to be interrogated. He'd be poked and prodded, his every action thrust under a microscope and--

Put it away.

Nox said, "We'll see if Arcann, or Senya, yourself, can learn anything."

Senya inclined her head. "As you wish, Commander."

"Do you have anything else to say?" Lana asked.

Senya shook her head. "Commander, you allowed me to save my son after he stood guilty of the worst war crimes. He is a better man for it. I need to know nothing else."

Nox had done it to keep a Zakuulan politician on her side, and because the former Emperor, ceding the battle to her, was a powerful symbol -- but decided not to admit this to Senya. If she believed in redemption, she'd fight for Theron. Good enough.

Bey'wan asked, "You intend to let him argue his innocence, then?" As Nox's jaw clenched, he held up a hand. "I'm not disagreeing with the idea, just checking. I mean..." and here he looked uncomfortable. "We understand, and accept, that Alliance justice is basically, it's you. I'm just asking."

Lana, once again, saved her. "Theron isn't Saresh. He was one of us. Some form of due process is required, or--"

Lana cut off, and looked to Nox, helpless. 

"If I don't show I'll listen to him," Nox told the others, "no one will believe I'll ever listen to them. I don't want that."

It was one reason to give Theron his chance, even if it wasn't Nox's.

Bey'wan nodded, his expression relieved. "I gotta admit, I'm glad to hear it, Commander. I don't know if he's guilty or not, but due process is -- it's a big deal, even if ultimate justice rests with you. The Republic troops will feel better about it."

Lana sounded amused, when she said, "I expect your Imperial troops will find it a refreshing change of pace as well. Any Imperial soldier who's lived long enough to serve under a Sith commander knows how rare it is."

Bey'wan cracked a smile. "You're probably right."

Nox looked around the table, waiting for the next person to speak. She was feeling a little less tense, though; they'd gotten Senya, and Bey'wan, provisionally on Theron's side, which would mean the troops could follow.

Nox watched Major Jorgen, as he cleared his throat. Well. Most of the troops. 

"I... respect, your position, Commander," he started, carefully. "But I--" His gaze darted around the table, before he sat up as straight as he could, looked Nox in the eye. "If Agent Shan returns to the Alliance, I'd like to request to be deployed in another unit. I don't know if I can work with him. But I won't let interpersonal issues interfere with the Alliance's work."

Lana glanced to Nox, who nodded: it was a reasonable compromise. Jorgen had an outdated sense of honour, as a soldier. He wouldn't work with someone he couldn't trust, but he wouldn't pretend he could either. The request to avoid Theron was the best he could do in a bad situation.

Lana said, "That's reasonable. Others may make similar requests, and I think we'll be able to accommodate some of them."

Koth, silent so far, rolled his eyes. "Put me on that list. I won't work with traitors."

Senya turned to him, eyes steely. "You defected from your own people, too."

"I did it to save the galaxy from a tyrant, not--" Senya waited, as Koth seemed to hear what he was saying. "Fine," he said shortly. "It doesn't matter anyway, since me and my crew have no ship."

"We'll find you a cruiser," Lana said. Nox let out a soft groan at this promise: Koth would hold them to it, even if they didn't have the ship to spare.

Koth, of course, looked pleased. "I'll hold you to it," he replied. Of course.

Nox told Lana, "This one's on you."

"I'm quite happy to steal one," Lana replied archly. "It isn't as if I haven't done it before."

The little moment of levity broke some of the tension, as people chuckled: Lana and Koth's bickering over ships she owed him was legendary, even among the more recent Alliance recruits, and that Nox would joke with them meant things were slowly returning to status quo. 

Nox looked to where Hylo was sitting with Gault. "Nothing to add?"

The other woman shrugged, looking at Gault before giving Nox a grin. "Hey, I know from bad taste in men. You won't hear me say anything else about it."

Gault protested, sputtering. "That was one time, I stuck you in carbonite _one time_! That's nothing like selling your secrets to your mortal enemy or betraying two angry Sith women--"

Hylo firmly put a hand over Gault's mouth, cutting him off. "Why don't you stop talking before one of those Sith stabs you, huh?" She rolled her eyes, catching Nox's gaze. "Men."

Nox had to snort; feeling a flash of kinship. It was ridiculous, the situations were nothing alike, and yet -- Nox felt that Hylo, of everyone here save Lana, maybe had an inkling of the real conflict Nox felt. 

Moreover, Hylo had moved passed it, could joke about it now. Nox let some of her desperation slide away. Perhaps this was survivable.

"Yeah," Hylo repeated, sounding both long-suffering and sympathetic. "Men."

On the holo, Shae -- no, Nox had best think of her as Mandalore, now -- said, "I need to get back to it. Your people are your people, Commander, my people are mine. We're allied with you."

"And that's it?" Lana asked.

Mandalore nodded. "That's it. My recommendation would be check his story, decide what you want to do with him -- though it sounds like he's convinced you he's innocent. So verify his intel, then cut him loose to work. We've got bigger firaxan to hunt, and I expect you do, too. I say let's move on."

Nox couldn't hide her grimace, as around the table, the others sat up, once more looking tense.

The truth was, as stupidly misguided as the Zildrog zealots were, the galaxy was in a dire situation and much of that was at her feet. Was it in worse straights than before she'd killed Valkorion? Unknown. Not worth assessing. Resources were tight, and people were looking to the Alliance as a scapegoat and saviour.

"The ex-head of the Sith pyramid of ancient knowledge should not be responsible for trying to feed anyone," Nox muttered. "I oversaw _archaeologists_."

"Needs must," Lana replied.

Nox looked at her, wordlessly -- they had to move on from Theron; nothing could be done until he woke; they couldn't protect him while others tried to destroy the Alliance itself; Nox couldn't bear to stay away; but Nox had to deal with the rest of, oh, everything in the galaxy.

She couldn't handle the rest of them without Lana, Nox would break under the strain.

But she had to handle it, if Lana were to go back to Medical. For Lana to go back to Theron, Nox had to rein in her temper. Put everything away. Handle the next crises her people brought her in this meeting, no matter how ridiculous it was that a Sith with no formal training in logistics or leadership ran a paramilitary organization made up of loyalists from every political sphere.

Lana was needed to protect Theron. So Nox had to handle it.

"Go," she told Lana, and Lana went.


	3. Chapter 3

Later, much later than Nox would have preferred, she slunk out of the meeting room with her head bowed. They had a plan-- well, no. They had a course of action for the next forty-eight to seventy-two hours, perhaps the week following. Given troop unease and civilian suspicion, Odessen would stay on lockdown with all available assets on watch or performing urgent inventory tasks. Messages would be sent, outside sources consulted, as clear a picture of the galaxy as they could find would be built.

For the next few days everyone would devote themselves to intelligence-gathering, try to piece together enough information to plan for their next steps.

Nox didn't want to think about the inevitable Imperial/Republic war effort; she didn't want to be dragged into it, it was so _pointless_. She was going to be dragged into it.

Zildrog was terrible, but his followers revealed one thing well: the galaxy was full of groups whose discontent would grow.

Nox had given her people wide discretion, if it meant their intelligence was more solid. People like Chela didn't give up their power for revenge if they weren't backed into a corner; people like Mortis, even more so. Acina disavowed any Darth who moved against Nox, but, she was also a cunning leader and wouldn't hesitate to manoeuvre the Sith into a better position so long as it didn't directly threaten the stability they clung to.

It was late evening by the time Nox was released and could comm Lana. "Any change?" she asked without greeting.

Lana's voice was crystal clear. "None," she told Nox. "He's deeply under, but the prognosis is steady."

"All right," Nox replied. Theron was steady. He'd nearly died; being asleep, being unconscious, was the best thing for him. Forced rest. Even his implants couldn't block all pain, and he'd be in a lot of pain once he woke.

For a lot of reasons.

The closer she got to medical, the slower Nox moved, as if by avoiding his room she could pretend Theron was fine. Still, Lana stood as she entered the isolation room. "I'll give you some privacy," Lana offered.

"It's fine," Nox answered. "I shouldn't stay."

Lana glanced around herself, before saying, "He'll be all right."

Nox nodded. "I know," she said, voice low. "He has to be."

"The doctors want him sedated for at least another twelve hours. Why don't you take the evening off, Commander?" Lana suggested. Her gaze darted to Theron's sleeping face -- still covered by an oxygen mask, though Nox was grateful to see it wasn't the bulky thing from before. He was breathing easier on his own, already. "Go let off some steam."

Nox drawled, "I don't know that the base can take the strain. Physically, I mean."

"Then go out into the wilds," Lana replied, turning back to Nox. "Take a shuttle, get yourself away for a few hours. I can sense you, you know. You need it."

"You think it's a good idea for the Alliance Commander to go off on her own? Now?"

Lana insisted, "Then take an escort, one of the powerful Force users. They could weather your storm. I would--"

"I need you _here_ ," Nox interrupted.

Lana replied, steely, "I know you do." She looked away briefly. "And, and part of me is glad of it. I don't know if I can forgive him, not yet, but I don't want him..."

As Lana trailed off, Nox answered, voice dry, "Believe me, I know the feeling." She looked around the room, before speaking into her comms to the ops room duty officer. "Get someone to bring Lana some food, and make sure she eats it. I'm going off base overnight."

"Yes sir," came the tinny voice of the officer. "Where should I say you're headed?"

Nox sighed. Lana was right, she had to let off enough steam so she could function. She wanted to forgive Theron. She didn't know how.

"I'm not heading off-planet," Nox told the officer, which was no answer at all.

-

When Nox headed to the Force-training centre, her intention had been to ask Senya to accompany her; like Hylo, the woman understood what people did to salvage untenable, unstable relationships. 

But just inside the entryway, Nox halted, doubting herself: Senya would want to talk. She'd want to offer insight, or sympathy, and that would, it would be intolerable, it would make everything worse--

"Commander," came Arcann's voice from behind her. "Are you well?"

"No," Nox snapped, before sighing. She turned around. "You shouldn't be able to sneak up on me."

"I have been trying to practice dulling my signature in the Force," Arcann told her calmly. Nox sensed the swirl of emotion beneath his careful tranquility, but chose not to address it. The man had enough on his plate, and so long as no one called for a formal trial for war crimes (and no one had, not to her specifically -- why not, she wasn't sure), Nox could let it go.

"The practice has paid off," Nox told him. She studied Arcann, so different than the ball of rage, the animalistic feral warrior she fought on Asylum so long ago. Had Valkorion manipulated him, fed him pieces of his own soul to poison Arcann, like he had his daughter? Or had Arcann changed on his own? Did Nox care?

"I'm going into the forest," Nox told him. "Care to play bodyguard? I have two stipulations."

"What are they?" Arcann asked easily.

"One, you keep up. Two, you respect that I do not want to talk. about. it."

Arcann studied her. "If that is your wish, I will honour it. But I don't think it's entirely genuine."

"Allow me the dignity of pretending," Nox hissed, angry all over again -- and both gratified and annoyed when Arcann only acquiesced, that same serene expression on his face.

-

Nox was correct in assuming that the duty officer was reluctant to release a shuttle with the vague destination of "not off-planet", but obviously also couldn't bring themself to argue with the Alliance Commander. Nox could have flown her own ship, but given they weren't that far off a potentially galaxy-ending crisis, and having lost most of the rest of the fleet, Nox felt leery of depriving the base of one of their fastest vessels.

Just in case.

Arcann, when she gestured, took the pilot's seat, but asked, "Where are we flying?"

"Anywhere," Nox answered thoughtlessly, then amended, "Anywhere that is as far away from here, and from the wilderness camp where I stumbled upon the ex-Grandmaster, as possible."

"I believe the southern continent was scouted for food production," Arcann told her smoothly, as he did the preflight checks and expertly took them into the air. "It is warmer than the region around the base, but dryer, too. There is some coast line."

"Good enough," Nox told him, and tried not to wince as Arcann contented himself with the atmospheric flight.

She was both exhausted, and angry with herself, and did not think relaxing on a beach would give her any measure of focus. But at least away from the base, she could use the Force to rip trees and rocks out of the ground, crack boulders and call down the storm, without casualties.

"You are deeply troubled," Arcann commented, when they were about ten minutes into the flight.

"Brilliant deduction," Nox hissed, then sighed again. "I am going to be miserable company," she warned him. "When we land, I would suggest you remain in the shuttle."

"I am not afraid of your misery," Arcann told her, as gravely as if he were dedicating his entire life to her cause, and as easily as if he were commenting on the weather. Nox couldn't understand it, her misery was deeply personal, clutched tightly -- had sometimes felt like the only thing that truly belonged to her. That, and then slowly, her Alliance.

Damn Theron Shan, and damn herself for not being able to give up on him.

If she were a true Sith, she would cut him down, kill him for the depth of hurt he'd caused her, no matter what the reason. If she were a true Jedi, she would forgive him that hurt because he felt such deep remorse. If she were a Knight, she would accept his actions as just because he had noble reasons.

All of these were things she _wanted_ to do. And Nox could do none of them -- could not hurt him in return, could not forgive him, could not accept him.

"You are shaking the shuttle," Arcann said quietly. "It is making it difficult to land."

Nox shook out her hands, briskly, let the power drain out of her body.

She was going to have to work off this excess. Soon.

Once she was out of the shuttle and alone.

-

Arcann did not stay in the shuttle, but he did not engage Nox while she sat on the sandy beach and meditated on her rage. Ignoring her completely, he set up a small camp on the far side of the ship, an emergency shelter and cot. He disappeared into the woods to gather wood, and built a fire. He did not meditate -- at least, Nox could not sense him meditating -- but he did sit for a while, staring into the flames.

He was an incredibly powerful Force user -- probably more powerful than she, in reality -- and Nox couldn't tune him out. Her meditations did not go well.

Eventually, as the sun set over the idyllic scene, lighting up their quiet little cove with brilliant oranges and pinks, flaring colour on the water, Nox stood. She wanted to race into the woods and fling herself at the ground until it battered her to pieces; she wanted to walk into the water and hold her breath, just to stop _thinking_.

She called out to Arcann, "I'm going into the woods. Not far," and strode far enough into the trees she could see and sense nothing but the beautiful sunset, the deep green of the trees and the fading blue sky, branches thick all around her.

At last, Nox halted in a copse of trees, and turned around slowly, looking at the wilderness spread out before her. Beautiful. Alive. Branches stretched to the sky, all around her.

With a breath, Nox finally stopped shoving away all her emotions. Let herself feel what she couldn't afford to. Let go.

Then, as the rage and panic slowly rose in her gut, she set about channeling all her feelings, all her helplessness -- Theron was unconscious, Theron had ripped out her heart, she was not strong enough to let him back in, Theron had almost _died_ \--

Nox methodically set about siphoning off her power, ripping trees from the ground and flinging them several hundred metres from her position, one by one, heaving breaths and snarling, mind void of all thoughts other than to tear everything around her apart with her bare hands, nothing but desperation overwhelming all her thoughts and-- 

Theron had almost died, Theron had-- 

She cracked a boulder, flung its pieces away from her. 

Theron had, he had--

Until she stood in a wide circle of empty space, edges far enough away the trees blurred together.

-

Arcann came to find her once it got dark; by then, Nox was calm enough, exhausted enough, she'd resorted to using the Force to pull handfuls of dirt from the ground and tossing them in the air, uncaring of where they'd land. From where she lay, spread out on her back, Nox couldn't see the hole she'd dug, nor did she care how deep it was.

She didn't want him to fall, however, so when she felt Arcann getting closer, Nox called out, "Be careful."

Nox could see, head turned, Arcann's torch sweeping carefully over the ground as he approached. When he reached her, he looked skeptical, but just offered a hand, pulled her up as Nox grabbed him. 

"Feel better?" was all he said.

Nox fell in beside him, watching her feet and the beam of light as Arcann played it over the ground in front of them. She grimaced as they came to the depression she'd made in the ground: around them boulders were scattered, branches and scrub torn apart. She hadn't even realized she'd been pulling the scrub, at the time.

Arcann looked at her, and Nox admitted, "Not really."

She felt tired, not better. But strategically, it was an improvement.

"It is not a total waste," he told her. "The landscaping."

As they reached the beach and the shuttle, Nox had to ask. "And why might that be?"

"The clearing has ample room for ranged attack training purposes," Arcann explained. He hunkered down near a crate of supplies, telling her absently, "Thexan and I often observed the Zakuul military in their manouevres. They used spaces like the one you made."

Nox, watching him closely, spotted when Arcann halted, his signature in the Force flaring bright with pain before returning to stillness. Valkorion had not lied about one thing: that burning spite and jealousy -- which, to be fair, Valkorion had fostered in Arcann -- had only lead to grief and pain.

"You must think me foolish," he murmured, handing her a readi-meal, seal broken and warming tab pulled. "For missing him."

"I think you underestimate the number of Sith who love those they murder," Nox told him. "The Empire is full of leaders who had to kill their own weaknesses."

"Once mother left, I think...Thexan was the only strength our family had," Arcann said, eyes closed. "And we who were left were the weakness."

Nox huffed. She didn't know what to say -- couldn't comfort Arcann in his guilt, nor offer him the absolution he continued to seek. His striving to be a better man was thoroughly outside her purview. Instead, she told him, "That's more a Jedi area of expertise."

"I know," Arcann said. "I cannot learn to be unattached. But the idea of letting my emotions flow through me and out the other side..."

"That isn't a Sith area of expertise, either," Nox drawled. 

Perhaps she was not really a Sith, in many ways -- she offered compassion. She did not always kill her enemies. She cared little for power anymore, though that was perhaps from knowing, intimately, how much power took from you the more you gathered, and she was oh so very tired of losing.

But in this, in keeping her emotions tight, in unleashing how she felt because she couldn't not... oh yes. This was still a Sith.

-

Arcann offered her the emergency shelter, offered to stand watch as she slept. Nox tilted her head, made a face. "I'm not sure I love that idea. You watching me while I sleep." He stuttered out an apology, which made Nox genuinely laugh; "Never mind, I don't care," she interrupted. "I'm turning in."

Having exhausted her energy resources and having stomped all over the woods, Nox fell into a swift sleep, thank everything. She woke at first light, the shelter not being particularly well able to black out sunshine, and found Arcann where she'd left him the night before, staring into the flames.

"Did you rest at all?"

"I kept watch," he told her. He waited, watching her face, crouched by the fire, looking for something, Nox didn't know. But after a moment of this uncomfortable scrutiny, he stood. "We'll head back soon?"

His intonation made it a question, but Arcann did not wait for her answer before beginning to strike camp, so he'd figured it out, or figured something out anyway: Nox was calmer, ready to return.

He waved off her offer to pilot, steering them steadily toward the base. Nox did not want to review any status updates, but a one-line message from Lana made her heart freeze in her chest, until she hurriedly clicked it open:

_Sedatives halted, doctors believe he'll be awake soon, maybe today. We need to figure out how to question him._

"Good news?" Arcann asked.

"News," Nox agreed.

Now came all the rest of it: asking Theron, over and over, whether he was guilty. Nox wouldn't do it. Lana couldn't do it. Someone would have to.

"I need someone to try and read Agent Shan, his mind," Nox told Arcann. "While he's questioned. Are you able?"

Arcann's gaze did not waver from the shuttle's window. "Me, and not my mother or one of your other advisors?"

"Your mother is too invested in--" 

Nox almost said 'justice', except that wasn't exactly true; only in the ways it was completely true. Nox didn't trust Senya not to seek some punishment for Theron's actions. Because of his poor judgment. A Jedi would not breach Theron's mental shields. A Sith would push too hard. Arcann was not trusted by all of her troops, but, he was--

"What I am invested in?"

"Atonement," Nox answered, unthinking -- then rubbed her eyes. She felt as if she'd never be fully whole, again. "Forgiveness," she told Arcann, and it was the worst kind of truth.

"You want forgiveness for Agent Shan," Arcann replied without judgment, sympathy evident in his tone, and it wasn't a question, because it didn't need to be.


	4. Chapter 4

"Commander, I didn't expect you back so soon."

Nox hadn't even made it out of the shuttle when Lana's voice came over her comm. The energy in the hanger was muted, hushed: people didn't know what was going to happen, and that uncertainty made them nervous. Now that Nox was calmer, she could sense their fear.

Damnit, at best damage control was going to take weeks.

"What's going on?" Nox asked Lana, her steps taking her to their paltry medical centre. If they were going to be exiled to Odessen, if their fates were going to be tied to this one planet now their ships were destroyed, they'd have to expand the camp, the facilities. The hospital.

"He woke up briefly," Lana's crackly voice told her, and Nox missed the next few things Lana said in the rush of white noise in her ears.

When she blinked back into herself, she was nearly at the med centre and Lana was saying over her comms, "...so the next time he's conscious the doctors think we'll get an idea of how fast he's healing."

"How long?"

Lana didn't reply, and Nox belatedly realized Arcann had tailed her dutifully all the way from the shuttle to the med centre. Lana stood watch in medical, a still pool of contained threat amid the soft beeping machines. She looked up as Nox and Arcann entered.

"Commander," Lana said, inclining her head. "The medical staff wanted to try and wake him again, but I told them to wait for your return."

Nox's eyes were drawn to the isolation room window: through the glass Theron looked wan, bruised, still, but not quite as grey as when he'd first arrived. She ignored Lana's murmur to Arcann, feet moving toward Theron without thought; Nox put a hand on the glass.

"He's stable," a voice said behind her -- oh. As Nox turned she saw the doctor, that Imperial, she'd scared before. Damnit. 

Nox folded her arms, trying not to scowl. 

Either her expression was calm or the doctor was braver than she first appeared, because the doctor approached, told Nox, "Now that you're here, we'd like to try waking him, check for any cognitive damage."

Nox looked at her, alarmed, and the doctor held a hand up. Lana, too, stepped forward. "It's just a precaution," Lana reassured her. "They're almost certain he'll be fine."

"Almost," Nox said, and her voice felt scratchy, hoarse again, as if she'd been screaming. But as the doctor requested permission, Nox nodded: better to know.

Correction: no, it wasn't better to know. But, she was going to have to know if Theron would wake up, one way or another. So, better to know now.

-

After a battery of tests that Nox watched from the other side of the glass, helplessly staring into the isolation chamber, the doctor pronounced Theron more or less healing well, no complications. The kolto had done the trick with the wound, stitching together his insides, and now it would just take time and patience.

She couldn't go to him.

The first moment when Theron opened his eyes, Nox felt the instruments around her shudder, shaking in tune with her fear, before she clamped down on her power. He looked around at the people gathered at his bed: the doctor, the droids, Lana, before closing his eyes and answering their questions.

He looked defeated.

It was a mistake to wonder if Theron was looking for her face, but that didn't stop Nox's heart from jolting at the thought.

Lana looked up, as the doctor hurried away, then leaned over to speak with Theron. The man managed to open his eyes and watch Lana, nodded several times; Nox couldn't hear what they said. 

In many ways, Lana and Theron were closer to each other than she'd been to either of them. The Commander was a figurehead, the top of a very large pyramid. Leadership was a lonely business. Lana and Theron, as her right and left hands, were more in tune with each other, working in parallel though rarely together.

Or so they thought. 

Fitting, now that things were quieter, that Nox felt as if she'd lost a limb.

Nox shook her head, scrubbed hands over her face. Maudlin was never a good look, they didn't have time for this sentimentality. Not while so much was in disarray. To protect herself, Nox had to move forward. To move forward, she had to establish Theron's innocence.

Or guilt. Both. Innocence in the eyes of the Alliance; in her eyes, what?

"Are you going to go in?" Arcann asked quietly from behind her.

Until then, it hadn't occurred to Nox that perhaps, she wouldn't.

Perhaps it was this: there was no part of her, not even the Sith rage that wanted to kill him, that didn't ache to be beside Theron. Perhaps it was just desperate fear -- he'd nearly been lost -- that made Nox snap, "Of course I am!"

"Then I will wait for you, and see if I can read Agent Shan."

This, and Lana's gesture, was the push Nox needed to force herself into Theron's room.

"I'll turn off surveillance for you," Lana said briskly to Nox, all business. She pulled out her datapad, tapped away. "Nothing is a guarantee, but it's as good as we'll get."

Theron had his eyes closed, but his lips curved at that. "Well, so long as there aren't any more disaffected GEMINI droids, it's probably fine."

"Not particularly funny," Lana shot back, but -- facing away from Theron, her face looked concerned. She flashed a look to Nox, let her worry show. But her voice was brusque as she said, "I've got a hundred things to get to. Theron, you should know that Arcann is outside, he's going to try and read you through the Force. Commander, let me know when you're finished."

"I appreciate the personal jail cell, Lana," Theron said, sardonic. "It's..." He sighed, refused to look at them still. "I mean, I do. Appreciate it. Everything you've done."

Nox waved a hand at Lana; she couldn't ask, but they had to ask, before the others did. Lana audibly sighed, but then said out loud, "Theron, were you really working for the Alliance this whole time? Was your loyalty to, to us, the entire time?"

Nox watched the bitterness that flashed on Lana's face before the other woman locked it away, instead of watching Theron. He told Lana, "It doesn't matter what I say."

"It does when you're saying it on record," Lana insisted. "So you'd best have a better answer."

Theron glanced to Lana, a brief look, one he apparently couldn't sustain as he closed his eyes. "Oh. Right. Then yeah, my loyalty was always to the Commander. I, I did a lot of things that. But yeah. I was trying to work for the good of the Alliance. That's where my loyalty's always been."

Lana nodded, looked to Nox, who couldn't speak. "Someone will debrief you fully, later," she told Theron, after Nox stayed quiet. "The doctors don't want to push it for now."

"It's fine," Theron said. "Whatever you need."

Other than to look at Lana the once, he still hadn't opened his eyes, and Lana shook her head, staring at him. Nox tilted her head, a silent question, and Lana shrugged, then opened her mouth. Frowned. Mouthed to Nox, where Theron couldn't see, 'something is wrong'.

But either Lana wouldn't tell her what, or didn't know, because she left all the same. As the isolation room closed, Nox thought to herself she would have liked the back-up.

For a few moments, all Nox did was stare at Theron from where she stood, frozen, against the far wall. She was wrong; he still looked too pale. Too quiet.

"Thank you, Commander."

The voice, not to mention the statement, was so confusing, Nox found herself speaking without thinking. "For what?"

"For saving my life."

Nox reached out, without thought, tried to read Theron through the Force. As usual, he was still, a blank pool, but also... Lana was right. Something was wrong.

"You don't sound very grateful," she told him, unthinking.

At this, Theron opened his eyes to look at her, and Nox pursed her lips together to see his eyes: he looked defeated, still. "It means a lot, that you did," he told her seriously. "It means, hell. It means everything to me."

"But?" Nox asked, even though she feared the answer, felt herself tense up, fingers clutching her forearms with her arms folded tightly as she'd stood, so many fucking times, in the last days.

"You destroyed Zildrog in time?" he asked, deflecting.

Nox sighed. It was normal -- normal enough -- she relaxed a little; Theron would ask about mission success, first off. "Yes. We lost the fleet. And the Gravestone, since it was Zildrog. Or, connected to Zildrog, I don't know."

Maybe she shouldn't have told him, yet: revealed their precarious situation. But there were enough spies on Odessen already that Nox was sure the interim Chancellor of the Republic, not to mention Empress Acina, already knew the situation. No strategic value in trying to keep that secret, if it was already out, no way to keep Theron from finding out.

Then again, as Theron visibly winced, staring at the ceiling as if he couldn't face her gaze, Nox wondered if she shouldn't have kept it from him anyway so as not to impede his recovery.

Too late. Too little thought, too late. Nox pressed on.

"So a slightly pyrrhic victory," Nox drawled, hoping Theron would react in some way. In any way. "Still. Odessen is standing, no fatalities, and the Alliance wasn't completely destroyed. I'll count that as, 'been better, been worse'."

Still he refused to meet her eyes.

"Damnit, Theron," Nox finally hissed -- she felt lightning cracking on her fingers, and clenched her jaw.

"There isn't anything I can say," Theron whispered, still staring at the ceiling. His fingers twisted a piece of his thin hospital blanket, restlessly. "Nothing I can say will ever make up for..."

He trailed off, and Nox felt herself crack. She all but yelled, "Not if you don't make the attempt! If you will say nothing then of course you can't ever make up for--"

Neither of them could say it aloud.

He didn't shrink away from her, but neither did Theron reach out. Instead, he said the worst thing he possibly could. "Maybe you should have just left me there. Might have been easier for you."

And just like that, Nox was incandescent with anger again, felt herself snap wildly out of control, a whirlwind in her gut. Good. Anger she could control. Anger, she could manipulate. Anger could be useful, not like fear.

Of course, a frisson of that shivered down her spine, too, thinking about what Theron said... but. Focus on the anger.

She stalked over to where Theron lay in bed, and flung a hand out, ready to really yell at him-- only to accidentally surge one of the unused monitors on the far wall with sparks of her power.

The two of them turned to where her lightning had hit. Nox bowed her head as the monitor sparked and crackled. She'd fried it completely. "Damnit," she muttered. "Not again."

Quietly, Theron asked, "How long has that been going on?"

"How long do you think?" Nox hissed. She gritted her teeth. Well. Better the monitor than him. She would not have forgiven herself if-- so. Small victories.

"You never had problems controlling yourself before. I mean, not your power?" Theron asked hesitantly.

She straightened up, glaring at him. He would meet her eyes now; _now_ , he would watch her. His concern lit up her anger, and more -- how many days had she been unable to sleep in the last months, wondering if she'd ever see his face again? Terrified, helpless, against the visceral need to set eyes on him?

Now, his concern manifested, for her sake, but not his own?

She managed to choke out, "I can control my anger well enough. Fear-- fear is more-- I."

The truth was, her fear was never something Nox had control over. It controlled her. 

The darker truth was, very little terrified her enough that she could not calculate the worst case scenario and accept it. A hundred times, even before she was appointed to the Dark Council, she should have died. Well, so what? Death was preferable to a lot of other fates she'd already lived through, and a few she hadn't.

She had died. There were worse things. 

She had been betrayed, had betrayed in turn. Lost everything. Arcann stole her life. She'd dealt with Force ghosts in her head well before Valkorion. Pain was bearable until it was not, and would continue. Nox had already broken. What was left? 

The worst truth was, the things that terrified her most, never happened to _her_.

"You died," Nox told Theron, "on the shuttle, your heart actually--" and it was as impossible to grasp saying it aloud, days later, as when it had happened and Lana worked furiously to restart his heart -- was as impossible a loss to comprehend now, as then.

It made her hands shake, to remember it, the heart monitor confirming the worst: he was lost to her. Nox heard the rattling of the loose instruments in the room, her powers shaking everything around her, just remembering.

Staring at him, Nox let the power drain out of her. 

He was not dead. 

But. He had been dead. 

"I couldn't bear it," she told Theron, flatly, and had to flee.

-

Outside the medical centre, once Nox watched Lana re-enter the isolation room -- and because Nox was not allowed any peace -- Arcann fell into step beside her. 

"What do you want?" Nox asked, feeling tired.

"I listened," Arcann told Nox. "As you requested, when you spoke with Agent Shan."

Nox was not sure she could manage this conversation now, but... no. She could not avoid it. Better now that she was exhausted, unlikely to spark up once more, than later. Better now, than when her powers might destroy much-needed equipment.

Nox nodded to Arcann, stepped into an alcove for privacy. Might as well get this over with.

Arcann told her, "He was agitated enough his mental blocks were weak. More than that, I do not think he cared to hide himself."

Nox squeezed both fists together until she felt the cracking in her knuckles. "And?"

"And," Arcann said quietly, "he felt genuine. In his actions, and his remorse. But foremost on his mind was not the Alliance, or the galaxy."

"What was?"

"He is desperately afraid of losing you," Arcann replied, and Nox felt it as if she'd been bludgeoned by several tons of durasteel, right in the chest. Arcann drove the hammer down more, as he told her, "He is not sure he wishes to live, if this is what he loses. The war has taken too much already."

Nox swallowed, throat thick, and was furious with herself for wanting nothing more than to fall to the floor and cover her head with both arms, curl into a ball and ride out her grief and pain, her broken heart. As if hiding could make this easier to bear. 

"He is not the only one," she managed to say, mouth dry.

"Then that is your answer, Commander," Arcann said. "If neither of you can live through this loss, then you fight to prevent it."

The only problem was, Nox still wasn't entirely sure how.


	5. Chapter 5

For the next three days, Nox alternated between sitting in a corner of medical watching the readouts of Theron's recovery on her datapad, and sitting in Alliance command watching intelligence reports come in... all while trying to force herself not to feel. Lana couldn't maintain their hold on the Alliance without assistance. And Nox was the Commander.

She couldn't face Theron, and so, she needed to work.

There were a handful of her technicians and agents monitoring communications, though fewer than-- She shook her head, hard, shoving her emotions down. No time for it. Move forward. Survive.

Survival meant logistics had to be solid. They had to eat. Had to live. Had to be able to move, if the situation -- or invasion -- warranted retreat. 

Each time Nox thought too hard about the future of the Alliance, she'd flee command to pace around Medical.

Each time she thought about her future, more than the next few hours, she tiptoed toward Theron's isolation room... and couldn't bring herself to go through the door. He was still healing. Lana was with him. Nox was the Alliance Commander, and everyone relied on her to get through in one piece. More or less.

Twice, they'd nearly lost Odessen and everyone stationed there. Nox would not risk a third time. Not even for her broken heart.

-

On the third day, medical announced that Theron was breathing on his own, taking tentative steps and showing no loss of movement or capacity despite the wound Atrius had inflicted -- and Nox breathed out in relief.

Part one, accomplished. Theron would live, could return to his life. Nox could look beyond one day ahead.

Now, the hard part. 

"Get Captain Visz up here," Nox ordered, and paced the ops room while the agents worked.

The Mirialan woman appeared in short order, looking tired and annoyed. Nox empathized. "What is it, Commander?" Hylo asked, voice short.

Nox pursed her lips, and Hylo shook her head. "Sorry. Not a lot of sleep recently. What do you need?"

It was a brusque apology, and were Nox still interested in maintaining Imperial discipline she would have had the woman killed. Thank the stars for the Alliance, as Hylo was far too valuable to lose to outdated, wasteful disciplinary measures. Purity and strength were all well and good when you had enough to spare.

Belatedly, Nox remembered: Theron had been the one to entice Hylo to join them, too. He and Lana had built this Alliance, brick by brick, piece by piece, one person at a time, and...

And Nox had been betrayed, but Theron was responsible for directly encouraging, convincing, or otherwise recruiting nearly half her top people.

His actions would have affected them, as well. Nox needed to remember that.

She motioned for Hylo to follow her into the private conference room on the second floor. Once the door slid closed behind them, Nox wasted no time. "How many ships do we have left?"

Hylo leaned back, but answered readily. "In short? Way too few. Three dozen cruisers and frigates give or take, a handful of corvettes. A lot of our starfighters went up when the Eternal Fleet did, but the pilots survived. We held onto most of our shuttles and support ships, but it's still not enough to stage a decent evac, if it comes to that."

Not enough to stage an evacuation -- obviously Hylo's thinking had already gone to what Nox had realized.

"Damn," Nox swore softly.

In the back of her mind, she'd put off wondering about the state of her fleet. Sure, they'd lost the Gravestone, they'd lost the Eternal Fleet, but her people were here, the catastrophic losses hadn't--

If it came to it, though, they wouldn't be able to evacuate Odessen.

"Yeah," Hylo told her, looking grim. "And I hate to pile on more bad news, but I've been hearing... rumbling."

"Oh?"

Hylo crossed her arms, looking determined. "Look," she started. "I still think you've got a decent shot at keeping a lid on the worst of the chaos in the galaxy, okay? So don't stab the messenger. But some of my crews... with losing the Fleet, they're wondering if it's time to cut their losses."

So their smuggler allies were thinking of jumping ship, so to speak, and taking up more lucrative jobs. Nox suspected the more loyalist Republic and Imperial forces, seeing the Alliance's reduced capacity, would follow.

"Part of me can't blame them," Nox murmured. "Though part of me would dearly love to show them the error of their ways."

"I wouldn't recommend that myself, Commander," Hylo told her hesitantly. "But it's up to you."

"Don't think I could persuade your crews to stay?" Nox drawled. 

She sank into a chair at the conference table, weariness in her bones. "No," Nox agreed. "Intimidation or violence wouldn't work for long, and I'd be mired in consistently forcing people into doing what they didn't want. And cajoling them will take too much time. I have better things to do. So we need ships," she said. "More ships, and loyal crews."

Hylo frowned, sitting beside Nox. "I don't know about the loyalty question," she said slowly, "but for ships... if you're asking me, I'd say you have two options."

Nox pointedly looked around the conference room. "Is there someone else here I might be asking?"

Hylo grinned. "Fair enough. One, you could go looking for ships to salvage. Find a decent enough technician and some engineers, some raw materials, you've got working vessels no one will argue aren't yours."

"What's the down side?" Nox asked.

"Time, materials, people -- all are in short supply. And there's no guarantee you'll ever get a ship that'll work."

A possibility. The safe possibility, since there was far less chance of reprisal; and the safer option, given their precarious situation, might be the better one. Certainly the wiser one.

"What about salvage from the Eternal Fleet? I want the Alliance to be the one that benefits from the wreckage."

Not other interests like the Republic or Empire, Nox didn't have to say.

Hylo frowned. "It's possible, but it'd be costly. We're talking... Well, I dunno what it'd take to start manufacturing ships out of that debris, but I'd bet a lot."

"I'll get Oggurobb on it," Nox said absently, and tapped out a terse message to the Doctor, high priority.

"Anything we get won't be space-ready for ages," Hylo pointed out.

It was the truth, and Nox knew it. She didn't want to leave the resources floating in orbit, knew it wouldn't be a short-term solution, but it wouldn't raise suspicions or alarm.

Salvaging -- any salvage -- would be the safe bet.

Nox had never been known for making the safe choice, however. So she asked, "What's our other option?"

Hylo told her, "We go pirate like the rest of the Outer Rim."

Ah. There was the riskier play, with a large potential for blowing up in their faces in spectacularly horrible fashion. 

"I can see the down side," Nox admitted. "Given we'd be attacking the Republic or Imperial navy and threatening an already-tenuous peace, while we don't have resources to fight back."

Hylo nodded. "Exactly. And even if you stuck to raiding gangs or other pirates, there's no guarantee they won't start trying for Alliance ships and allies later. They're getting bolder without the Eternal Fleet patrols. You'd have to totally wipe out a gang to be sure they won't come after us, without destroying the ships."

"As attractive as the thought of becoming the head of an underworld syndicate is..."

"You'd just be one step away from being stabbed in the back again," Hylo pointed out. "If you're aiming for loyalty, taking over a gang isn't the best bet."

"Just like the Dark Council," Nox said nostalgically. "Ah, old times." More seriously, she told Hylo, "This is priority one, we need enough ships for an evacuation, and we need them now. But secrecy is paramount: I don't want anyone to know we're aiming to bolster our fleet. Odessen is staggeringly vulnerable right now, and we don't want to attract attention."

"No one?"

Nox shook her head. "To keep it from leaking you can't tell any of our people. This is all you, for now."

Hylo pursed her lips. "It'll take a lot longer for me to work up the jobs, without help."

Nox frowned. She didn't like it; too many people with information made it that much easier to let it leak out. Gossip, even the well-natured kind, would reach Republic and Imperial spies, would reach beyond Odessen.

But Hylo was only one woman, and they had better thieves on the crew.

"You can tap a few people, so long as they don't know the specifics of why we're looking," she said. "Not your worse half," Nox added.

"He's got a big mouth," Hylo agreed. "I can tap his expertise without reading him in. Don't worry. I was thinking Vette, actually -- she's good, she's quiet, and she's got a lot of contacts out there that might be interested in salvage jobs. Or even have a few on the go already."

"Strong leads?"

Hylo nodded. "She's sharp, and I'd bet she'll know where to start digging." The woman was making notes on her datapad; when Nox leaned over, she saw it was all in shorthand, an incomprehensible mesh of Aurebesh and--

"Is that Huttese?"

Hylo grinned, but instead of answering, told Nox, "If we do find any decent salvage, Blizz would be good to manage the op."

"What about pirating?"

"I still don't love it," Hylo admitted. "It just seems, so many of my crew, the smugglers and contacts that came to Odessen... we worked hard to build the Alliance to get away from stuff like that."

Hylo sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I guess it's naive to put it that way."

It was naive, Nox knew. But every time she thought about the loss of her holdings on Dromund Kaas, her reputation, her power, every time Nox wanted her old life back... she thought about how the only person she'd trusted, really trusted, to actually save her life back then, was Ashara. 

Not until Yavin had Nox found more than one person she knew might risk themselves to save her, just because they thought she -- not the title, not Darth Nox, but Zain herself -- was worth saving. So she understood the naive want for something better.

"Hopeful optimism is...nice. I understand wanting, that, believe me," Nox told Hylo quietly. "But survival must come first." 

Still. If anyone could thread that needle... 

Nox asked, "What would you want to do? You, not you as the head of Alliance logistics."

"If we start attacking military ships," Hylo replied immediately, "they can't know it's the Alliance. But... you asked, so, I'm not comfortable killing Republic troops. It's just, not right. And I guess, I don't want it to be necessary."

Nox nodded. "I don't want to risk Empress Acina finding out we're threatening her military, myself," she said. She paced, thinking aloud. "If we could incapacitate a ship's crew, render them unconscious somehow, we could stuff them in escape pods and take the ship and its supplies."

"Still pretty risky since any military ship would be traceable, and to take it apart to make sure it wasn't would be time-consuming enough we might as well go back to salvage. Not to mention," Hylo said, grimacing, "I don't think the Alliance troops would like it. And if we're talking about loyalty..."

"Agreed," Nox said, sighing. "But I don't want to rely on salvaging junked vessels off the surface of Hoth, either."

"No one who's been there ever wants to go back to Hoth, Commander."

Nox rolled over options in her mind as she paced. Her people would not take kindly to attacking either side's military; the militaries were low on resources already; Iokath may produce weaponry, but not ships.

No one had ships. Well. Pirates had ships, and pirates were fair targets. The risk was attracting the attention of pirates that were too well organized to ignore the threat.

Doable. Especially if they took great pains to hide their identities in subterfuge.

"The less risky, most reliable bet is attacking disorganized criminals for their ships," Nox said slowly. When Hylo didn't disagree, she added, "We could find some pirates terrible enough even our upstanding Republic Major Jorgan won't argue, so we don't get pushback from our people on eliminating the enemy. Andronikos has experience in hijacking, so long as we aren't concerned about deaths among the crew. I expect Paxton does as well."

Hylo made some notes, skimming her datapad. "Well, there isn't any shortage of reports of pirate activity," she told Nox. "We've got Nova Blades, Skulls, half of Rishi's been active out here. And, the Exchange's moved into Zakuul... huh." 

Hylo looked at Nox, troubled. "This actually might be an opportunity in more than one way. A lot of the destabilization on the Outer Rim is from gangs moving in. We could get some Alliance goodwill, and ships, at the same time."

If they could mask their intervention as outreach to Zakuul and Outer Rim territories, just a coincidence they'd commandeered the ship itself...

"I'll release some of Lana's intelligence resources for the op," Nox replied immediately, sending Lana a quick message. "We need leads on resources and fleets, and if we can get them this way, all the better. If the Exchange is on Zakuul, maybe Koth can take some do-gooders along to help."

Frowning, as she composed the terse request for intelligence, Nox said sardonically, "Actually, there's our cover with the militaries: we're not hijacking ships, we're saving innocent lives from the Exchange."

"Exchange is bad news," Hylo cautioned. "They're more dangerous than, well. Other pirates, for one."

Nox pursed her lips. "We kill the crew, retrofit the ships, ensure no one finds out, if it comes to that," she told Hylo. "If we can get even a few vessels outfitted with weaponry from Iokath..."

Too much to do. Too much, and too little to spare.

"I'll see if I can find any Exchange or other factions that are on the outs with the rest," Hylo said. "Maybe we'll get lucky, be able to hit some crews that won't bring the wrath of entire organizations down on us."

Nox nodded. "Get me a workup on our best opportunities -- salvaged and stolen -- as soon as you can."

Hylo nodded, making several more notes before she leaned back. Studying Nox for a moment, Hylo frowned, finally asking, "All right. What's priority two?"

Nox flinched, but forced herself to say, "This is for no one else to know. I mean it, absolutely no one." When Hylo nodded, Nox forced herself to add, "And... and I'm sorry to ask you."

"What is it?" Hylo said, concerned.

Nox gritted out, "I need a revised evacuation plan for Odessen, within the next four hours, and -- given our current capacity -- how many people we'd have to leave behind."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lengthy wait between chapters is over! All the rest are done and edited; will _actually_ post once per day until we're done. Praise be to A for her tireless "no, this-- no, *this*."

Having left Hylo with two impossible tasks, and feeling even worse about their chances for survival than previously Nox thought possible, she headed for the large hanger where Aygo typically stood, watching over drills and coordinating with his lieutenants.

As usual, instead of using his office up in Operations, Bey'wan was perched on a spare ammunition box, datapad balanced on his knee as he tapped away, humming to himself. He liked to be approachable to all the soldiers, and his dedication showed. 

Nox leaned against the doorway to the hanger, watching him. Occasionally an officer ran up to him with a question, he'd frown, reply, and the officer would scurry off again.

She stood there quietly, watching the bustle of the hanger, until she felt Lokin's approach in the Force. "I wouldn't have thought you the type to skulk around in the shadows," he said, from behind her.

Because Nox was off balance and happy to share the wealth, she snapped back, "And I wouldn't have thought you foolish enough to sneak up on a Sith Lord unannounced."

"Indeed," he replied. He stepped up beside her, looking at the hanger as well. "Look at them all," he murmured. "It is remarkable."

Nox stood up, let herself feel exactly how she felt: desperate, afraid, alone -- paralytically lonely. Exhausted, holding people together who didn't want to be here. The threat to the galaxy they'd signed up to defeat had passed; they were already vulnerable, they had lost nearly everything. Best to cut out those who weren't committed now, at the low point and all at once... then build back up from scratch. 

"When you 'skulk off', as you so eloquently put it," she snapped, facing Lokin, "take care not to do anything that will require retribution."

He just raised one eyebrow, looking not at all cowed. "I do think you'll have more important matters to attend to," Lokin replied mildly. "Nonetheless, the warning is taken as intended. I will, as you say, take care."

Nox allowed him to wander away, allowed him the last word, because she was _tired_ of lying, tired of holding the strength of this Alliance together with both hands clutching. Ever since the Eternal Empire was defeated -- no, eons before that -- it felt like she grasped sand, running through her fingers.

She was going to lose the Alliance, one way or another, and Nox was tired of all of it, because this _one time_ \-- no matter what Atrius and his followers believed -- it wasn't her fault.

Perhaps she could stem the bleeding, some.

"Aygo," she called out, striding toward his self-selected podium. "A word."

The former Republic general followed her to a quiet alcove of the hanger. Nox said without preamble, "It has come to my attention that the Alliance is likely to have to take sides in this ridiculous galactic war, to survive. Please do me the courtesy of informing me, should you decide to leave."

The Bothan looked at her, startled. "What?" he said.

"The blasted war," Nox said impatiently, waving a hand. "The Alliance. I'm a former member of the Dark Council, and-- Bey'wan, if I make decisions you can't live with, _tell_ me."

Aygo studied her. "Shan really did a number on you," he murmured.

Nox whirled around, looking about wildly, to check that no one else had heard. Did he know nothing of showing weakness, did Aygo intend to undermine her authority, was he already conspiring to--

"I didn't mean it like that," he said, apologetic. He'd pitched his voice low. It wouldn't carry. He was facing away from everyone, no one could read his lips. Nox was-- Nox was understandably paranoid. But this was ridiculous, this entire thing was ridiculous, she could not go one like everyone around her was already planning to kill her, was already out the door--

"I get what you're saying, Commander," Aygo interrupted her thoughts by saying. "And I didn't mean he'd-- I just meant, that Shan managed to undermine us like that, he made you doubt our loyalty. So, I'm sorry."

"You're loyal to the Alliance's cause of keeping the galaxy safe," Nox countered. "Not me."

Aygo had to nod. "Maybe," he allowed. "But so far it's been the same thing. Are you saying it isn't?"

"One way or another the Alliance won't be able to stay out of the damned war," Nox said, tired. "It doesn't matter what I feel, personally. To survive, to protect our people, sooner or later we're going to have to-- and I know you're a Republic man."

"I was. You could be, too," he said, cautiously.

Nox shook her head. To Bey'wan, who'd proven -- despite every reason to the contrary, despite every logical conclusion -- to be reliable, to be trustworthy, Nox told the truth. Part of the truth.

"If I weren't Force-sensitive," she said quietly, "perhaps the Republic would be an option. But I don't know how -- if I went to them, they'd.... they'd have me swear off emotion and wear a Jedi's face, and I can't-- I _can't_."

Aygo watched her, sympathy evident on his face. Iokath and Nathema had given her no way out.

"The Alliance is stuck between a stoneray and the cave wall, I know," Bey'wan said. "And I swear whatever else happens, I won't make things harder for you, Commander."

"That's all I ask," Nox said, immensely grateful. "Perhaps, if you find yourself wanting to move on, we can find a way to stay cautiously in touch."

"Let's not borrow trouble," Bey'wan offered. "I didn't disagree with you when you chose to remain allied with Empress Acina on Iokath, after all... even if it meant the loss of one of the Republic's greatest heroes."

Nox frowned, shaking her head. "Believe it or not and for a number of reasons, that was not even close to what I wanted to happen."

Bey'wan offered up a cautious smile. "We've worked together long enough that I believe you, Commander. I don't think any of us wanted what happened on Iokath to happen."

Nox barked out a laugh. "Truer words were never spoken, Admiral." She spied Arcann, lurking among several of her alien military recruits. 

"While I think about it, last night Arcann and I went into the wilds and started clearing land. Assign some men to set up a camp? It might be time to expand."

"A secondary base?" Bey'wan looked startled, but then thoughtful. "Makes sense, I guess. The Alliance is here on Odessen to stay, we should look into getting more of a permanent settlement operational."

"I trust your judgment, Aygo," Nox said. She jutted her chin to where Arcann stood. "Arcann can give you details and his initial suggestions, but I leave it in your hands."

Bey'wan thought about it for another moment. "If we send along... hmm. Let me get something together, we'll be good to start in a few days."

"Then we move forward, Bey'wan," Nox said, and tried to keep her hands from shaking.

-

"You've been busy, Commander."

Nox internally winced; that was Lana's 'I'm not going to admit how angry I am' voice. This could be quite an issue, given Nox did not want to anger Lana for a number of reasons. "You know me," she said. "I like to keep busy."

Lana raised an eyebrow, lips pressed thin as she looked around the Operations conference room. "And you didn't think it was important to inform me of changes in personnel?"

Nox frowned, thinking. She'd released some of Lana's-- no, she'd sent a message to Lana about the release of personnel to Hylo. She'd told Aygo to prep the op for Arcann, surely Lana couldn't argue with that. "What did I do?"

Lana came forward, looking a bit confused. "I got notice of two Imperial squads sent back to Dromund Kaas," she said.

Oh dear. "That didn't take long," Nox muttered. "I expect Bey'wan let them go on their own request."

"Ah."

In that one little word, Lana summed it up perfectly. Nox started pacing; out the window, she could survey the full base, see the ships landed in the fields beyond. She could see her people, moving through Odessen. And if they didn't act immediately... in a month's time, there might be no one left.

In a month's time, they may be halved anyway, they may be a shell of the former Alliance... Nox shook her head furiously. Stem the bleeding. Stem the bleeding, cut out whatever required it, let people go now and be stronger for it in the long run.

She couldn't -- she wouldn't keep people who didn't want to stay, but she had to try. They had to try.

"You've got to interrogate Theron," Nox said, and gulped. Shoved away the flash of panic. "Today. We have to get this done."

Lana came to lean against the conference table beside Nox, almost, but not quite, close enough their shoulders touched. "I thought we'd agreed it would be better if someone else did it?" she asked cautiously.

"We don't have the time," Nox gritted out. "Unless we get out ahead of this, now, the damage will be done."

"You'll have to convene a tribunal of your people, first," Lana murmured.

"Our people," Nox reminded Lana. "And I don't know who else could... conduct the interrog-- who could."

Nox bit her lip, keeping her gaze resolutely on the window in front of her. On the ships in the fields. Once Hylo had a plan for evac, she was going to have to shift some people around, possibly send some off-planet, or risk losing everyone. On the one hand, splitting up made them smaller targets, more likely to evade notice. But on the other... 

She couldn't protect everyone. Right now she didn't care-- Theron was all that mattered.

There was a good chance Theron would be the only thing that ever mattered. Nox sighed.

"Perhaps task Senya with administering the investigation," Lana offered finally. Nox could feel Lana's eyes on her. "She has experience in running a judiciary, and while Zakuul didn't have a court system per se, the Knights did have proceedings in place to mete out justice. She could put together a tribunal to weigh facts."

"And people would trust her judgment?"

"In a word?" Lana asked. "No. But people would recognize her impartiality in administration. Theron's judgment... Commander, you _know_ it has to be yours, and yours alone. You've claimed his fate already."

Nox knew that, in the way her chest pulled, in the way it was suddenly hard to breathe: that was the problem. She still didn't know how to forgive Theron his trespasses, and at the same time, was terrified to let him out of her sight. This wasn't justice. This was, this was--

"Tell Senya to convene an investigative tribunal as soon as possible, then," she said, clenching her fists. "But I want you to handle the questioning, Lana. You're the only one who knows he's--"

The truth was, for wildly different reasons Lana had suffered for Theron's lies as much as Nox... perhaps more. Lana and Theron had worked together for five years against Zakuul before Nox had even woken up.

When Nox reached out in the Force, feeling Lana's emotions, she knew that. Whether the others understood or not, this was the truth: only Lana had the right to demand answers of Theron in why he'd chosen to lie.

"Understood, Commander," Lana said quietly. "I expect we'll be ready to go in a few hours. Are you going to stay here?"

Implicit in the question was if Nox planned to go back to medical. 

But Theron was fully awake and conscious now, moving on his own and able to leave the isolation room under guard, so medical was a minefield. Nox couldn't face him. Not without-- not without blowing up, something he did not need and she didn't want to do.

Nox didn't want to be anywhere.

She glanced at the datapad in her hand, full of resource projections for the Alliance; they were going to drown, sooner rather than later. This was not the skillset of an archaeologist, nor of a warrior: the only things people knew the Commander, the Outlander, or Darth Nox, for being good at.

But, Nox was not those figureheads, not really. As a Darth, she'd followed behind the people the Empire had assigned to her sphere as the head of ancient knowledge, watched in fascination as they'd studied. But she'd been born a nobody, had no formal education. All of her discoveries were desperate last-ditch grabs for power, undocumented, unrefined. 

Nor was she skilled on the battlefield, for all her ferocity. This was another thing few people understood: her fighting style was unpredictable, forceful, a battering ram, because she knew nothing else. She wasn't a warrior; a warrior had skill, experience. Training. A warrior did not stand in the centre of things and lash out wildly in the hopes of hitting something, knowing that whatever people could do to her, her body would outlast it.

All Nox had, in anything she did and everything she'd accomplished, was a terrifying will to survive things that others could not.

She could survive anything, except, apparently, losing Theron Shan.

Lana was watching her, expression wary. So Nox gathered the tatters of her composure. This was not the time.

"I'm hoping Aristocra Saganu will reply to my message," Nox said, dryly. "Having been the Ascendency's personal assassin must have a few benefits. I'm hoping they include food, munitions, perhaps agricultural equipment."

Nox frowned, thinking. Food, evac, ships, fuel. Atrius dealt with. Nox grimaced. "There's another loose end."

Lana eyed her. "What is it?"

Nox dearly wished she could pretend this was not an issue; or at least, was an issue they could put off for now. But, no.

Lana waited. "What is it, Commander?"

Nox took a breath. "While the Gravestone was destroyed, and the facility on Nathema was destroyed..."

Ah. Nathema. If she still had the Fleet, Nox would destroy it from orbit and be done with the mess.

"Emperor Vitiate, or Valkorion, or Tenebrae, or whomever he wanted to be called, is the gift that keeps on giving," Lana said, voice clipped. "You're right, of course. Better the Alliance deals with whatever ruins may be left on Nathema, than the Republic or Empress Acina. We'll need to move quickly."

On the one hand, Nox found evidence of the power of the dark side, the true depths of destructive power it held, quite fascinating. She'd enjoyed studying arcane rituals, found the myriad ways to power intriguing. There was a certain comfort in acquiring more power. Just in case. Recently, however, she'd taken a cautious step back from that fascination, deciding it was far better in a theoretical sense, than a literal one.

Part of her wanted to squirrel away anything they found on Nathema for herself. Just in case. She wouldn't use the artifacts, what harm could knowledge do? So long as it was well protected knowledge, it would be fine.

On the other hand: Ziost.

To _start_.

"What do you think about sending Ashara to lead the project? Reclamation, inventory, catalogue, destruction," Nox told Lana. "She's got a Sith's curiosity, but a Jedi's caution. I think, given our former Emperor's insatiable desire to eat planets, we could use a bit of both, don't you?"

Perhaps it was too cautious for a Sith, but Nox didn't care; on the other hand: Ziost.

Hopefully Ashara would see the promotion for what it was: immense responsibility, proof of Nox's trust in her judgment. Acknowledgment that Ashara had grown past needing her. 

"Your former apprentice will do well," Lana reassured her. "She's grown immeasurably since we first met."

"I know," Nox replied wistfully, and didn't try to explain how she missed Ashara, the girl she used to know -- as the only person Nox trusted before Manaan.

"Now will you take a break?" Lana asked. When Nox didn't respond, she added, "We only have a few more hours, if that, before Senya has a tribunal ready for Theron's testimony."

Nox knew it might be the last chance to speak with him before his fate was sealed.

Nox couldn't face him.

But there was a chance-- no. Her people would be made to understand. Even if. No. She would not think of the worst.

"Fine," she said. "Saganu can wait."

Lana touched her on the shoulder, a brief pat, and then left.

-

She found Theron much where she'd left him: laying in medical, hangdog expression and too-pale face turned toward the ceiling. This time, however, he had company. Bey'wan sat in the chair beside his bed.

It was a testament to Nox's preoccupation with the imminent conversation that she didn't sense Bey'wan's presence until she'd entered Theron's isolation room, more's the pity; now she couldn't flee.

She heard the tail-end of the discussion, as Bey'wan was saying, "... we understand that sacrifices have to be made sometimes, Shan. But you gotta realize-- Commander."

Direly wishing she'd been stealthier so she could have caught the end of that statement, Nox approached, crossing her arms and striding into the room, to hide the tremble in her fingers.

Bey'wan stood without preamble, nodding respectfully to Nox. "I'll get out of your hair."

Before Nox could protest, Bey'wan left her alone with Theron, door to his room closing.

Since Theron didn't begin speaking, Nox looked around his room, studying the changes. She noticed several monitors were dark that, previously, had flickered with his vitals; a good sign, they weren't keeping so close an eye on his recovery. He had a very obvious tracking anklet on over his medical scrubs, which Nox squinted at.

"It's linked directly to Alliance security," Theron explained, seeing her gaze. "If I leave the room it'll call in the guards."

To Nox, it looked suspiciously like the technology the Empire used in its restraint collars, and she felt her anger rising: where, and why, had the Alliance procured the tech? "We just had this type of technology lying around?" she asked, trying to keep calm.

"The doctor said it was originally for quarantine procedures, I think?" Theron told her. "Something about the isolation room having its own measures to prevent 'dangerous biological contagions' from getting loose."

Theron's tone clearly indicated he was quoting someone, on the biological contagions part. "Charming," Nox quipped. "Part of me really doesn't want to know why we have the capacity to quarantine dangerous pathogens, but then I remember Doctor Oggurobb works here."

"Yeah, you might not wanna think too hard about that one," he replied. "I definitely don't." 

After a minute, Theron shrugged. "It's okay," he said, "I get it. It's okay."

Nox stared at him, helplessly; he was sitting on his bed, head bowed and back curved, staring at his feet. His feet were bare -- of course they were, as a prisoner they wouldn't have given him anything he could use to take his own--

"Hey," he said quietly.

Nox looked up, and Theron jutted his chin to where... damnit. To where Nox, yet again, was rattling equipment around with the Force.

"That's getting old, quickly," Nox drawled. She swallowed. One of them would have to speak about something serious, here, but she didn't know how to begin. "Did Bey'wan explain what's going to happen?"

Theron shrugged. "The bare bones. They'll get a tribunal together to hear my testimony, I guess someone's going to decide... well, what to do with me after that."

Nox ground her teeth. Aygo hadn't even explained Theron's judgment fell to Nox. "Did Bey'wan want something else?" she asked.

"Just checking in," Theron replied. Before Nox could get angry at his deflection, Theron continued. "He wanted to make sure I knew that as long as he was head of military operations, he'd fight for a fair trial. Whatever the outcome."

Before she could consider whether it was wise, Nox hissed, "The outcome of any such thing will be mine, and no one else's!"

Theron's face fell. "I get it," he told her quietly.

Damnit. This was one of many topics Nox was not ready to broach. And yet.

"You clearly do _not_ ," she ground out. Unable to have this conversation without movement, Nox began to pace -- unable to have this conversation without making it a fight, either, except for how Theron wasn't fighting back--

That was so unlike him Nox halted, froze, turned on him furiously, before having to move once more. How could she make him understand?

Nox rounded on Theron, fists clenched. "I didn't want to kill you, not even on Umbara, any more than you wanted to kill me," she tried. Forcing herself to continue -- stars, this was never going to get any easier, what was the _point_ \-- no, she couldn't live without this, so she must continue. "But threats, revenge, is the only way I know how to deal, Theron, I don't know how to--"

She inhaled, sharp, then breathed out, glaring at him. "If I wanted you dead, if I wanted to punish you, you would not have made it to the kolto tank. If I wanted to punish you as a traitor I wouldn't have stood up to the Alliance and told them if they wanted you they had to go through me to--"

Nox cut herself off. Theron was staring, expression startled, eyes wide, which for him with all of his training, meant she'd utterly shocked him. For her part, she was exhausted, entire body one large bruise, and she didn't know what to do or say. 

There was nothing to say to fix this, and yet, she had to try. She would not be defeated when the alternative was to live without him.

If only she knew where to _start_.

Nox sank onto Theron's bed, next to where he sat. It was easier, not having to face his eyes; easier to keep her terror at losing him, her panic at his resignation -- did he even want to survive? what did she do if he did not? -- at a simmer, rather than a boil. 

"You can't possibly think I want you dead," she said, tired. "I love you even now. If you can't believe that... if nothing else, my vengeance isn't nearly creative enough to save your life only to take it."

Choked up, Theron managed to get out, "I never stopped loving you," before scrubbing a hand over his face. Nox dared a glance; he had his face turned away, the tell-tale sign of impending tears swiftly hidden as he rubbed his face.

With a breath, Theron got hold of himself once more. While his tone was far from natural, he managed to approximate his usual nonchalance as he continued, "As for some elaborate revenge plan, I know you've never had that kind of patience."

Nox exhaled. They just had to get through the next few hours, the day after that. She just had to cling to the thing that mattered. This one thing that mattered. She just had to-- they had to--

"I don't want to fight with you," Nox told him. "I just... don't know how to do anything else."

"I know I owe you answers on everything," Theron replied. "And, and I do want to give them."

Nox leaned over, nudged Theron's shoulder with her own. The brief touch flared within her, and Nox closed her eyes. "You're going to have to answer some difficult questions from Lana, first," she said. "She'll be the one debriefing you for the tribunal. I... I don't know that I can handle talking about Umbara yet."

Theron cautiously reached out with his hand, kept his eyes away from her; and Nox offered her palm in return. Theron gripped her hand, fingers tight, and Nox felt the rest of herself relax even as she clutched onto him.

It was so little, but-- but Nox could touch him, feel his warm skin. A little of her desperation ebbed.

Nox watched as Theron eased his grip, caressed the back of her hand with one thumb quietly. Eventually he said softly, "I don't know if I'm ready to talk to you about Umbara, yet, either."

Nox nodded. "It has to happen, but... I know that some part of you believed what you were saying." She tensed, fearful, as Theron's thumb stopped moving; squeezed her hand tightly and waited until he resumed the quiet touch. "Maybe what happened wasn't directly my fault, but-- the Alliance is responsible for a lot of things, including the loss of your father. I understand why you'd believe those things, too."

"I don't," Theron whispered, but the touch of fear in his tone meant Nox could hear what he could not yet admit: part of him did think the Alliance responsible, that she was responsible.

Some part of him probably did blame her for his father's death, true or not. 

"I don't blame you for that," Nox told him, and then there was nothing to say until Bey'wan came to retrieve Theron for his interrogation.


	7. Chapter 7

"Do you understand our purpose in meeting today?"

Senya's voice was stern, and her face was sterner, and Nox felt like she was going to be sick. Appropriate, since they'd managed to turn the isolation room into a sort of prison cell, with a large screen showing the tribunal.

"It's a good mix," Lana had assured Nox, and it was, the tribunal faces represented on the holo: Bey'wan and an Imperial major she didn't recognize to represent military justice, one of Sana-Rae's interpreters, Choza as a Jedi. One of the civilian council, from the refugee volunteers. Hylo was there too but refused to acknowledge her official standing in the Alliance; that would have to be fixed, and soon.

So many things had to be fixed, and quickly, before the galaxy fell on itself, fighting to the death over the scraps Zakuul and Atrius and the war left behind--

Focus. Here and now, exoneration for Theron. Solidify his innocence in the eyes of the Alliance, or at least, the eyes of those on Odessen. Get him room to breathe and find his way back to them. To her. 

Then, protect Odessen and all the rest of it.

Nox had refused a tribunal seat on the grounds absolute justice already rested with her; she didn't want her panic to muddy the waters. Wasn't sure she could hold back, either, if they wished to exile him or worse.

It would be safer to keep herself removed from proceedings. Just in case.

Instead, she waited in a little alcove in Medical, watching Theron through the glass itself while the tribunal was upstairs in the Operations conference room. Senya was explaining the process for the proceedings, how it was being recorded, and how she was available to answer questions on points of order.

"My understanding is that a Republic trial," she was saying, "would include an advocate for the accused, and someone to present evidence of the crime."

She waited a moment, to see if anyone had questions. Nox glanced to the holo set up beside her, showing the tribunal; they were nodding.

"But," Senya said, "this is not a trial. Agent Shan has agreed to answer questions. You all have agreed to hear his testimony. We are not here to pass judgment. That responsibility rests with the Commander. Do you, as tribunal members, understand?"

There was more nodding, more affirmatives. Nox held her breath. This was the tricky part: letting them believe they had agency while making sure they wanted her to do what she already had decided. Senya was an unknown, an unyielding force for justice. For a wild moment, Nox fantasized about breaking into the isolation room and taking Theron to her ship to just... flee.

To go.

Footsteps echoed behind her, and Nox slumped. No escape was possible then. 

Lana came to stand beside her, nodding to the one-way glass. "It'll be fine."

Senya turned next to Theron. "We aren't here to dispute your guilt, Agent Shan. That is for the Commander." She gave Theron a severe look, piercing. "Do you understand?"

Nox could see Theron's throat work as he swallowed, but his voice was steady as he said, "Yes."

Senya nodded. "Good. Tribunal members, your job is to listen to Agent Shan, examine the evidence, and piece together facts. To that, we will begin the hearing."

Nox pressed a hand to her mouth to keep from screaming in rage. She could do nothing here, had allowed this to happen, she'd managed to box herself in like a caged animal and now--

"Steady, Commander," came Lana's voice, sympathetic. "I expect this will take some time. Keep steady."

Keep steady. Easy to say, harder to do while Nox watched as Theron faced down the people he'd betrayed, with no back-up.

"I don't know if it helps, but it's not the first time he's faced his superiors like this," Lana told her. "Well. Different circumstances. Similar tension."

It absolutely did not help, knowing how Theron's punishment after Ziost had gone. But Theron was steady, Theron was nervous but hiding it. So Nox would hold together.

Most of her rage drained away, and what was left was unending fear; the smallness of it made her want to hunker down, crawl away.

Senya flicked through something on her datapad, before turning to Theron. "As arbiter, I will now pose the question we've gathered to answer. Agent Shan, in your actions that betrayed Alliance interests -- starting at Iokath and ending on Nathema -- did you act to defend the Alliance and its principles? Or did you breach your oath?"

Nox shivered, half-relief, half-fear. Had Theron upheld his oath, however obscurely? Had he been acting for her in a forgivable way? This was the crux of it, then?

The tribunal was decided already. Somehow, Lana had pulled off the impossible.

His lies were betrayals of her, of her emotions, of her _trust_ , but... Theron had upheld the Alliance. There was no other possible finding.

"I told you Senya would be the right one to do this," Lana murmured. "All I had to do was point out that there was no need to question guilt or innocence, but rather, was he working to forward the aims of the Alliance, what it stands for?"

All Nox had to do, then, was live through his recitation of what had happened.

Theron glanced to the tribunal on the screen, looked back to Senya. Inexplicably, he looked to the one-way mirror; of course he'd know someone was behind the glass. Nox knew the doctors hadn't deactivated his implants. She and Lana had discussed it, but decided, no point; they'd accepted any danger when they'd brought Theron back to Odessen in the first place. The guards, the locked room, the anklet, it was symbolic, it was--

Like this hearing: for show.

"In a moment Lana Beniko will come to question you. There will be two Force users behind the glass, reading your intentions. Do you consent?"

Nox looked at Lana, an eyebrow raised. "Theron already agreed," Lana explained, shrugging. "Might as well get it on record."

"Two Force users?"

"Well, you're here too," Lana said, as Arcann came up to them.

In the isolation room, Senya was quietly explaining to Theron who'd be reading him; he grimaced, flicking a look to the mirror again, before nodding. "Yeah, that's, that's fine."

"Whatever they learn is for the Commander's ears only."

"I'm not gonna lie, it's not my favourite idea," Theron was saying, "but, it's fine. No one's ever been able to, but if that's what it takes, yeah."

Senya nodded, addressing the tribunal. "Then, members, I invite you to send questions to Lana as we proceed. Let's begin."

"That's my cue," Lana said, and squeezed Nox's shoulder. "Don't break anything."

Senya went to open the isolation room door, right by where they hid; Nox got one brief look, a quick glance at Theron in the room beyond, before Senya gestured Lana forward and the door closed.

Arcann came to stand beside Nox, his presence in the Force muted again, dulled -- a quiet ember instead of the raging fire Nox knew him capable of, which she appreciated. Right now, she didn't want to sense anything beyond what was happening in front of her.

One pane of glass, a single door, a set of quarantine measures stood between her and Theron. If they wanted to crucify him-- if the Alliance would not accept him, she could break the glass. With two steps she could put herself between him and Senya, she could strike the woman down, she could-- she _could_ , and damn the consequences, too.

"Would you like to hear anything I can read from Theron as they continue, Commander?" Arcann asked.

She would not survive running commentary; Nox snapped, "Stars, no, keep silent--" closed her mouth, crossed her arms. Just shook her head, refusing to take her eyes off Theron.

One pane of glass.

Out of the corner of her eye, Nox saw Arcann nod, but he didn't speak after that. His presence was not comforting, like Lana's would be, but it wasn't an unwelcome intrusion. He was doing his best to remain quiet, as she demanded.

"Almost done," Nox whispered, and tried furiously to believe it.

-

"'Ever since you defeated Valkorion, everything I've done has been toward one goal: the total destruction of the Eternal Alliance'." Lana quoted. "Let's start there."

Nox was never going to survive this.

"Atrius thought it meant I'd been against the Alliance from the start," Theron explained, "and figured I was lying. I guess he didn't get the whole, 'destruction of the Emperor's Force-ghost' part."

Lana stood, hands behind her back, spine stiff. "So you told him about Vitiate and the Throne."

Theron shook his head. "I backtracked, called it a bit of creative licence. With the ruin of Zakuul after Vaylin, Valkorion's legacy was destroyed-- anyway it didn't matter what I said so long as I made it sound like I thought the Commander had destroyed Zakuul. Atrius lapped it up, it gave him a chance to rage against Zakuul's fall. And GEMINI 16 didn't really trust me anyway."

Lana looked away, to the glass. Nox felt bile rising; she knew she was not going to enjoy this part, and pressed a hand to her stomach firmly; it was time to toughen up, to become durasteel.

"You shot at the Commander. On the train."

Theron looked at his hands, nodded. Without facing Lana, he replied, "And you saved her, jumped in front of the blaster. I hadn't accounted for that, but... I should have figured you would. I'm sorry for that."

When Lana waited, arms crossed, Theron explained, "I knew her armour was tough enough to take the shot. I didn't know yours was."

Lana pursed her lips. "Why take the shot at all?"

Theron raised his head, looking to the tribunal screen before looking away. This time, he didn't have trouble facing Lana's gaze. "If I wounded the Commander, a few more shots to the window and the forcefield between the drivers' compartment and where I was standing wouldn't be suspicious. Just shooting out the window would be pretty obvious."

"So you intended to leave us an escape route."

Theron nodded. "You probably could have gotten out on your own, but I didn't want to risk it so I broke the window. As for the forcefield, I didn't..."

Here, Theron turned his head to briefly look at the one-way mirror, face grim, deep circles obvious under his heavy eyes. "I didn't want to risk that the Commander would want revenge more than she wanted to live," Theron said quietly. "It would have been... understandable, but then we all would have died."

With some asperity, Lana retorted, "So you set us up to jump from a moving train?"

"Atrius originally ordered me to stay behind," Theron said flatly, "blow the train from afar as you went over the rigged tracks." He shook his head. "I traded on the fact that I loved the Commander, wanted a chance to explain. He bought it, let me go with you."

Nox knew that even as accomplished a liar as Theron was, his most successful falsehoods -- anyone's most successful falsehoods -- were based in truth. He'd kept the deception from them for months, worry and anxiety and fear swirling... hidden it behind his grief over Iokath. He'd told Atrius he wanted to explain, and it was true -- just not why.

"Why the Adegan crystals in the first place?" Lana asked, switching topics. "In the end, the Alliance got almost half the shipment and the Order claimed the rest. And yet I didn't see any evidence for their use."

Theron frowned. "I think maybe Atrius wanted them for weaponry," he replied. "Maybe it was just a test and they didn't need them at all, I dunno. Maybe they were planning something from the data retrieved on Iokath."

A chilling thought: where _had_ all those lightsaber crystals gone?

"I certainly want any more details you can provide on the crystals' whereabouts," Lana said, echoing Nox's alarm. "But yes, turning to Iokath."

Theron sighed, slumping. "I was the one who suggested he transmit data to all three groups simultaneously... somehow Atrius had already gotten his hands on data from the planet, enough it was alarming. I'd heard rumours that a group, an organized one -- back then I didn't know the name -- was making covert moves in that end of space. A slicer I knew got a hold of some of the data. I recognized the Iokath code, knew it was a threat. Managed to get an in with the leader and suggested the trap for all three sides."

"But _why_!"

Nox startled, jumping as Lana raised her voice. Theron flinched, behind the glass, before saying, "Atrius was going to figure out how to get at Iokath's resources eventually, take what he wanted. This was before he trusted me to know what he was up to -- all I knew is they were looking for something on Iokath, and that they, whoever they were, hated the Commander."

Theron fiddled with the cuff of his hospital scrub. "I figured, if I could get the Alliance there, maybe we could clean things up, make sure the Order didn't get too much."

"So why bring the Republic and the Empire into it at the same time?"

"Come on," and here, Theron sounded impatient. "Atrius was never going to believe I was trying to help if I said, 'hey, bring the Commander to Iokath!' It had to sound believable, like I was trying to sabotage things while clearing the way for the Order to take over what remained."

Lana stared at him, pointedly, and Nox felt herself shudder as Lana told him, "Congratulations on a job well done."

"Yeah," Theron bit out, harshly, "Iokath turned out _exactly_ how I'd hoped it would."

Lana paused. More softly, she asked, "Why didn't the Order just go take what they needed themselves?"

"They didn't have the manpower to fight the droids," Theron said. "Atrius might have loved the sound of his own voice, and he might have been obsessive over the Alliance and the Commander, but... he was cautious, too. Didn't want to risk losing everything before he could find Zildrog."

Theron looked up, glancing to the mirror bleakly before looking back at Lana. "You know," he said, conversationally, "during the war, I used to get roast gorak with one of those street performers in the Old Market on Zakuul who used to do a spoken word piece on the coming of Zildrog? 'The Great Serpent's return', he used to recite. Wish I could show that guy how it's not all it's cracked up to be."

Lana frowned. "Why don't we move on, for now," she said, and Nox wanted to fold herself into a tiny ball; Lana hadn't even touched on Nathema, yet; hadn't mentioned the name Jace Malcom.

This day was never going to end.

-

Lana hammered Theron about the mission to Copero, his seduction of Zenta ("it was... it was nothing, a few gifts, some compliments, Lana, come on,") and his theft of the star map. Nox fought her jealousy and anger at his admission of his time with Zenta; it hurt, that he was able to turn the charm on and off. 

That was all. It was nothing. Nox found she could reign in her temper by picturing the woman's face as she performed the execution that Saganu wanted.

Petty. Unnecessarily cruel. Tiresome as well, as the woman had been betrayed by Theron, too.

The rhythm of Lana's questioning was rapid, the pacing impossible to predict; perhaps Theron had more experience with a non-linear interrogation, but Nox couldn't keep up. One moment she'd ask about Atrius's plans for the star map, the next she asked Theron how he'd managed to make contact with Zenta in the first place. Hearing about how Theron had flirted from afar, off and on, for weeks beforehand was painful, but Nox could admit she'd done far worse.

It wasn't nearly as bad as when Lana circled back to Iokath.

"What was your reaction to the Commander's decision to support Empress Acina on Iokath?" Lana asked without preamble.

Nox swallowed, breathing hitched before she caught herself; to show weakness, regret, even to Arcann-- no. Not now. It could open floodgates she wasn't able to close again, and they, she, still could not afford it.

Instead, she clenched her teeth together and watched Theron's face, his mind closed to her.

Theron didn't look up at the one-way window, but neither did he duck his head, avoid Lana's gaze. "I was disappointed," he said steadily, "but I understood. It wasn't an easy decision. But I knew the Commander wasn't the kind of person who'd want to use a weapon that powerful."

"So you don't wish she'd sided with the Republic, instead?"

"Do I wish things had gone differently?" His voice took on a note of entreaty as he told Lana, "Of course I do."

"And how much did that regret fuel your decision to assist the Order of Zildrog?"

Nox sucked in a breath, frozen, but Theron only quirked a smile. "I was the one that lead all three groups to Iokath in the first place. I was already playing the Order."

Lana nodded, a small gesture; looked away from the tribunal members. Nox could see her lips twitch, fighting her own smirk, and only then could Nox released the breath she'd been holding. "So the death of your father..."

Theron held a hand up. "I know I have no right to ask this, but please. Let's just." He sighed. "Commander Malcom. Okay?"

Lana looked to the tribunal members, who conferred with each other briefly. Lana said, "Very well. Supreme Commander Malcom. How did the loss of one of the Republic's most important leaders affect your decisions moving forward?"

Nox could tell Theron appreciated Lana's attempt to keep the description professional: an important leader, the supreme commander. She still could feel a brief jolt of Theron's grief -- and bitter anger -- before he replied. 

"I knew it was going to be a huge blow the minute it happened," he said. Theron ran a hand through his hair, looked frustrated for a minute. "The Republic... look, I don't think anyone here really wants either side crushed into dust, right? That's not what the Alliance is about."

Nox consciously relaxed the painful grip she had on her forearms. Beside her, she felt Arcann reach out and touch her shoulder with one palm, before he dropped his arm again. Nox inhaled.

"But the Order did," Lana said, unflinching, and Theron slumped.

"No, the Order wanted the Commander's head," he said, staring at his shoes. With effort, he sat up straight again. "Atrius wanted the Alliance ground into the dirt, Zakuul back on top of the pack, and... honestly, he didn't care much about the Empire or Republic either way. Others in the Order, they wanted destruction or revenge, the old powers back the way they were."

"And the Supreme Commander?"

Theron took a breath. "Without him," Theron admitted, "the Republic may very well lose the war. I knew that. You knew that. Acina knew that. It hurt, thinking about my old home like that... so yeah, it got me thinking about moving up my timeline for infiltration."

Lana paused, tilted her head slightly. "'Moving up your timeline'," she quoted.

"It was why I was willing to do what he wanted on Umbara," Theron ground out. Every word sounded forced, but he didn't hesitate to continue to speak, no matter how much it felt like shards of glass in Nox's hands, her heart. "Atrius was too smart not to know what kinds of damage he could keep doing, taking out key people. I needed an in, and I needed it quickly, to prevent another Iokath."

Theron jutted his chin out, hands fisted on his legs. "So yeah. I pushed harder, because I could tell I was running out of time."

"You became reckless," Lana told him, voice steely. "Because the Republic lost a hero."

Theron finally looked at the one-way mirror, looking at his own reflection. His eyes didn't meet Nox's, because he didn't know where she was standing behind the glass. 

For one wild moment, Nox fantasized about breaking into the room and kidnapping Theron. Giving up on all of this.

Running.

Then Theron turned back to address Lana. "I wouldn't have put it like that, but I guess... yeah. If Atrius could manipulate things so the Republic lost Malcom," he said, "then the Commander could easily be next. Could we take a break?" he asked, and Nox closed her eyes.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep forgetting to update daily, so here are the last three chapters.

It was Lana's voice, not Arcann or Senya's, that made Nox open her eyes. "The cameras are off," she told Nox, "if you want a moment with him."

Nox shook her head, then frowned, thinking. Did she want to speak with Theron? Not even a little, and yet more than anything in the galaxy. "How is he?" she murmured to Lana, instead.

"Steady," Lana said, and squeezed Nox's elbow. "Go on. I'll make sure you aren't seen. You'll feel better for it."

Nox thoroughly doubted it, but went anyway.

-

"How are you enjoying your interrogation so far?" Nox asked, arms crossed.

Theron wasn't restrained to the hospital bed or the chair he sat in, per se, but he still had the tracking anklet on, and his wrists had metal cuffs on them that Nox suspected could clamp together. 

He looked at her, smirked. "It's a much nicer jail cell than anything the Hutts have offered," he replied, tone nonchalant. "Though I think the honour of 'nicest cell' still has to go to those Star Fortress prisons."

Nox blinked, thinking back. "Those weren't so bad, were they?" she said. 

More than once on her runs through the fortresses, she'd found herself locked up by sky troopers and relying on the Force to escape those damned cells. Why they'd padded their prison cells with amenities, Nox never had figured out.

"Yeah," Theron said quietly.

Nox looked around the room, desperately trying to find something to say. So of course she blurted out the worst possible thing. "I didn't know you'd contacted Zenta before all this," Nox said.

Inwardly, she winced.

Theron coughed. "I, yeah, she was someone I had my eye on for Alliance recruitment for a little while," he said awkwardly. "She was a quick strategist but an outcast, didn't harbour the typical Chiss paranoia of Force users. Had a sizeable army and logistics chain. Was ripe for defection."

Nox nodded, but couldn't meet Theron's eyes.

"Look," he started to say softly, but Nox raised a hand, dared to look up at him.

Theron looked devastated, quietly hurt, and Nox let her anger flare: why should he be hurt, why should he get to feel-- 

No. 

As quickly as she felt herself rage, her anger disappeared: Theron was someone who would always do what he thought was right, even if it hurt him. Sometimes, especially if it hurt him.

Lana had been right to make her face him. Nox strode across the room, knelt at Theron's side. Carefully, she put a hand on his knee, and he immediately covered it with his own.

"I know you," Nox said quietly. "I know you make compromises, I know you do things to get things done. I... I can't say I'm even surprised you carried on another relationship--"

"Nothing happened," Theron interrupted. "I, honestly, it--"

Nox tightened her fingers around his knee, and Theron stopped talking. "It's something you would have done," she said. 

She couldn't look at him as she said this, because it would hurt him even more, and... and no matter whether she was Sith or no, the one thing Nox had come to realize was: she didn't want to punish him.

Not anymore.

It was a welcome realization, and painful, because she still had to say this, for them to get past it. "If it saved the galaxy," she told him, "you would have carried on a full affair. I know."

She said it gently, because that realization, the crystalline knowledge of how far Theron would go to keep his ideals -- and her -- safe, meant she could accept what he had done, in order to fix things.

But he had to see that she knew him, too, and that he knew her in return.

"I never meant to hurt you," Theron whispered. 

Nox stood up, took a half-step back so she wasn't towering over where Theron stayed seated in his chair. "I think," she told him slowly, "I would do the same. No. I know I would, to keep you safe. And you know I have done worse."

Nox breathed, slowly, and put a hand on the back of Theron's neck. She stroked one thumb along his nape, and they sat like that until the tribunal returned.

-

"When did the Order find exactly what they were looking for?" Lana asked.

"You mean," Theron replied, "when did they figure out that the crazy ancient weapon capable of destroying entire planets was on Nathema?"

"Just so," Lana said crisply.

Theron exhaled. "The Iokath data. GEMINI 16 was the key to decoding it all, and we all knew it. The problem was I couldn't alter any of the code -- they'd know immediately, and then they'd kill me and we'd be nowhere."

He inhaled, fiddled with his sleeve. "So I made myself invaluable to retrieving other pieces of the puzzle. Copero, for example," he told them sourly. "GEMINI 16 didn't want me to be the one to go, but Atrius disagreed. No one else could ingratiate themselves with a new contact so quickly, and even with all of her processing power the droid couldn't make any headway with deciphering any of the coordinates from Iokath."

Lana hummed quietly, and Nox leaned her forehead against Theron's isolation room window, the glass cool against her skin. She wanted to be finished with this, desperately enough that Lana glanced her way. The other woman must have sensed her roiling emotions.

Lana said, "It makes me wonder how SCORPIO ever communicated with the Gravestone successfully to find Iokath, in the first place."

Theron shrugged. "She always claimed the Gravestone wanted to go home? I guess Zildrog wasn't awake enough to answer GEMINI 16. Or maybe it didn't like her. Machine gods? Ancient superweapons? Who knows."

"So they sent you after the star map on Copero."

"They sent me following leads on ancient data," Theron corrected. "Copero was one of a hundred initial leads. GEMINI 16 had hacked deeply enough into the holonet that she'd gotten into intelligence files for thousands of planets. Taking over that abandoned listening post helped -- that was her idea."

"How did you narrow it down?"

Theron held his hands out, palms up, for a moment, before letting them fall. "We spent days digging through data, chasing intel. The same as any hunt for information. Once we found enough, they ordered me to make direct contact with Zenta, all the rest of it."

"And the star map?"

"Honestly, I figured it was going to be a dead end." Theron sighed heavily. "But I saw it, and immediately I knew it was going to be enough to find Zildrog. Don't know how, just... I knew it."

Nox gulped, and fisted her hand at her side; she could not break. 

Theron told Lana, "Until then, I figured I could keep stalling, delay enough for you to keep up. Maybe, figure out some way to fix it. I hadn't met Atrius in person before Copero. But then... I had the key to finding Zildrog. That's when I started taking secondary measures. Leaving enough for you to find, backtracing some of the data. It was way more likely I'd be found out, but I knew there was no more time. I had to send the Order the star map data, but I couldn't not warn you at the same time."

"And you risked sending a message directly from the Order's base of operations?" Lana asked.

Nox didn't need to read her signature in the Force to hear the incredulity; Lana wasted no effort to try and hide it as she spoke.

In response, Theron replied with frustration, "I knew it was a bad idea, but there weren't any other options. By the time I made it back, Atrius had moved most of his followers to Nathema, he'd evac'ed the base and had set it to self-destruct. I knew I had to warn you. The Alliance," he corrected hastily. "I had to warn the Alliance. Whatever the cost."

"So why use such a risky means of communication?" Lana demanded. 

She pulled up a still holo of the abandoned Imperial listening post; Nox winced, seeing the terminal, remembering the adrenaline rush of running through the station, hoping against hope that whatever luck had lead them there, wouldn't run out before they could escape the self-destruct.

Theron reached out, one hand outstretched to the holo that showed an incomprehensible string of numbers and letters in multiple languages; half the characters, Nox didn't even recognise the script used, much less the meaning.

He dropped his fingers, looked back to the screen where the tribunal sat watching, with a carefully blank expression. 

"I knew you'd recognise it," Theron replied tersely, "but if the worst happened and someone else found it, no one -- literally no one else -- would know what it said."

"And if the Commander had chosen to bring someone else along?" Lana replied, equally terse. "You jeopardized everything in leaving a message only one Alliance member could find!"

"I knew you'd be there," Theron replied. He struggled a moment, and Nox felt his momentary anguish through the Force, before he stilled himself internally. "You wouldn't have let the Commander go alone. You're-- I knew you'd be there."

"And how could you possibly know that?" Lana demanded.

Nox -- hidden as she was behind the glass that meant none of the tribunal, Lana or Theron himself, could see her reactions -- watched as Theron told Lana, "You're the only other person in the galaxy I could ever trust to protect the Commander as fiercely as I do."

She could see both of them, therefore, as Lana's expression flashed, a flicker of betrayal and pain as she turned away from the cameras and tribunal both; she could watch as Theron's expression collapsed in on itself, when Lana said nothing.

Lana had trusted Theron as her partner; all this time, Theron was admitting, he'd trusted Lana the same, and yet he'd betrayed them anyway.

There.

Nox had managed to fracture the two of them just as thoroughly as she'd ruined everything else around her.

Nox leaned her head against the glass, one palm pressed up against the window, and tried very, very hard not to rage against the helplessness of the situation so hard her out-of-control powers splintered everything in a mile radius of where she was standing.

She just desperately hoped that was not prophetic of the situation.

Lana called for a brief recess before disappearing. Theron was allowed to get up and stretch, but had to stay in the room even as the tribunal screen went dark. Nox looked around; no one was near her.

Her hand shook only a little, no sparks.

Lana never told her how to decrypt that code, and Nox knew it wasn't in the Alliance information banks.

She'd kept it, her and Theron's secret, even as she swore vengeance on him, swore to deliver him to Nox's feet for punishment.

So.

Perhaps this was broken; and yet, and yet... perhaps they could fix it.


	9. Chapter 9

Nox found Lana shoved in a supply closet down one of the halls near Medical, breathing carefully through her nose, eyes glittering.

She didn't knock, simply opened the door and slipped in, to stare at Lana.

"How are you holding up?" Nox asked without preamble.

"Wonderfully," Lana retorted. "How are you?"

"Surviving," Nox replied, and felt her eyes water. She blinked furiously, scrubbed a hand over her face.

"Stars, look at us," Lana said, gesturing between the two of them, and then she laughed. "Let's never admit how terrible today has been."

"Deal," Nox replied easily. She had no desire to talk about this day to anyone. "Are you able to go back in?"

Lana shook her head, pressed her lips together. "I didn't think I could be angrier at him," she confessed. "Angrier than I was when he tried to shoot at you on the train, I mean."

"I'd wager Theron didn't imagine you could be, either," Nox replied dryly. "And yet here we are."

"Though... you seem, calmer," Lana offered. "Better now. More contained."

Lana said it carefully, but that she'd say it at all meant Lana felt Nox out of the woods. Usually, any questions as to her capacity would mean Nox would scream internally, would cut the other person to the quick-- but, this was Lana.

Still, that didn't make it easier. They were in hour four, only the closing remarks to go, and while Nox could see the light beyond hyperspace -- had dim hope they could emerge unscathed -- she still resented Lana for doing this, even as she'd been the one to order Lana to do it.

Lana watched her, arms folded. Nox silently fumed for another moment, then let it go. None of this was Lana's fault, all of it was on Nox's shoulders. 

Nox asked, "How so?"

"You were... wavering, somewhat. When we first landed," Lana said delicately. "I admit, it surprised me, because, well."

Despite knowing she would regret it, Nox asked. "Because of what?"

"On, Nathema," Lana told her, even more carefully, "you were, focused. Driven. You easily pushed aside whatever you were feeling to complete the mission." Lana gave her a brief, sour smile. "Pragmatic. And you know how I admire pragmatism."

Nox rolled her eyes. "And?"

Lana didn't meet her eyes. "And so, I was surprised when you..."

Nox sighed. "You can say 'fell apart,' Lana," she told the other woman. "I won't hold it against you, and it would be true."

"Fell apart, then," Lana continued with another smile, "afterward. Once we knew Theron claimed to be on our side, once we were back on Odessen, that was where you lost it. It did surprise me. But I'm glad to see you've, relaxed, again."

Nox told her, "I can contain anger, rage. I can use it and put it away." She paused. "To survive the Empire, you're taught nothing more consistently than how to take blind hatred and rage and shove it away. Contain it. As long as all I feel is angry, I can still think rationally. It doesn't mean I always make rational choices, but if I wanted to, I can."

Lana looked sympathetic, like she wanted to say more, but Nox shook her head. "Not now," she told Lana. "I'm, you may sense I feel better, but the thread is thin, yet."

"Go on," Lana told her. "I'll be ready soon, and we'll end this."

-

Senya reconvened the tribunal without fanfare, lead the members through several questions -- did Theron know the consequences of his actions, how did he minimize intelligence risks, how much did he share with the Order?

Nox cared little about the leaks in their own intelligence, far less than Lana or Bey'wan -- she knew that in order to get intel, you had to trade it, and had little faith in anyone's ability to keep secrets. It was not entirely out of malice or spite: an organization the size of the Alliance simply had too many moving parts to keep knowledge hidden once more than a few people knew about it.

That Theron had traded intel on the Alliance for intel on the Order, Nox knew she should care, and yet didn't. She cared he was open, his face calm. She cared Theron's shoulders weren't hunched, and that he was meeting Lana's eyes again, now they'd covered the worst of it.

She cared that he wanted to be here, that he wanted to suffer this to return.

This might have been like a saber to the gut -- and Nox dearly wished she did not know what that looked like, or felt like -- but, the pain of it was fading. Little by little. With each miniscule way Theron was relaxing, Nox found herself calmer in return.

Finally, Senya turned to where Nox stood, hidden behind the glass. "Are you satisfied with this tribunal's findings?" she asked. "As Alliance Commander, do you believe we have sufficiently investigated Agent Shan's motives?"

Nox stilled. She felt Arcann shuffle, behind her, a silent shadow, but didn't turn. Into the intercom, she told Senya, "I am. You can tell the tribunal I'll give my decision shortly."

Senya nodded shortly, saying a few more words in her role as arbiter, before taking up station beside the door. 

Nox turned to Arcann, who waited patiently. After a moment when she said nothing, he asked, "Do you wish to know the details of what I read from Theron Shan?"

The former Zakuulan prince said his name as if it was a title, as if it meant something; not 'agent', but 'Theron'; as if he had looked into the heart of the man and seen something despite his shields and his meditations and his implants.

Nox chewed her lip. "He wasn't lying."

Arcann shook his head gravely. "As you already know."

Nox shook her head. "Then I don't need to," she told Arcann, and went into the room. She didn't care anymore if Arcann had read Theron's guilt or innocence. She couldn't, not and ever move forward -- and that was fine, that was good, she was relieved.

Nox wanted to move forward. She needed to forgive him, accept him, and that meant she had to believe him. So she would.

-

Stepping into the room where Theron sat, where Senya remained stationed as guard and arbiter both, Nox jutted her chin out to the Knight. "Give me five minutes," she ordered Senya. "Cameras off."

"Understood, Commander," Senya replied, and moved to do Nox's bidding.

Once they were alone, Nox studied Theron again. "You're looking more like yourself," she told him. 

Theron's eyes darted to her; he looked surprised. Nox rolled her eyes at him, came to stand next to him. She put a hand on his shoulder gently; the simple touch meant her tension drained away.

"You seem more tired," he replied quietly.

"I am tired," Nox said. "Things have been... difficult, these last few days." She felt Theron tense, under her hand, and Nox couldn't help it, she leaned into his body, pressed herself against his side.

She wished they could sit side by side, instead of her standing over him, but Theron didn't seem to mind since he moved to cover the hand on his shoulder with his own. She squeezed his, trying to pass on whatever comfort she could.

"It isn't just you," Nox told him slowly. "It's, everything. We've always been two steps from collapsing, and -- I'm a little tired."

"Would it help if I disappeared for a while?" Theron said. "After this, I mean. I could--"

"No!" Nox said sharply. She inhaled. "No, it wouldn't help-- no."

Still, she felt tension in him, and she swallowed. There was more to it.

Could he. Did he want to.

No.

Maybe.

"Theron," Nox started to say, struck -- dare she ask? could she dare not to ask, now she'd thought of it? Oh, but what kind of answer would he give? could she live through it?

She'd operated on a false assumption, that he wanted to return. Stupid. Foolish.

"Commander," he replied. His voice was a little tenser than usual, he showed a bit of strain, but, but Theron had it together. He didn't look, or feel, defeated anymore.

She could ask. Whatever he told her, she could live through it. She had to believe that. And she had to-- in order to figure out what to do, for him, she had to know. So she had to ask.

Nox licked her lips. "Do you even... want, to come back to the Alliance? After everything."

He froze. Said nothing.

She turned her head away, studiously tracked a random holo-monitor on the wall, its lights blinking steadily. She ignored the pounding of her heart, the sour taste of adrenaline in her mouth as she hurried to add, "There's, I don't want-- the last thing I want is to add more pressure on today. Never mind. It doesn't matter."

"Hey," Theron said.

Nox couldn't turn. What was important was keeping Theron-- no, what was important, she argued to herself, was keeping Theron safe. No matter how much she desperately wanted him, Nox would not, she refused to force him to stay if--

" _Hey_ ," Theron said, a little louder. "Look at me."

Nox dared to raise her eyes. Theron told her slowly, "All I have wanted since Umbara, every night I went to sleep, was to feel you sleeping beside me. The only thing I wanted every morning when I woke up, was to see you. I missed you, more than anything. And I missed Odessen. I missed the base. All of it."

"You missed Odessen," Nox echoed.

Not just her. She took a breath.

Theron nodded, meeting her eyes. "I spent a long time not really fitting, anywhere," he told her. "After, everything, I couldn't even begin to imagine ever coming back, it was too-- there were too many ways it could go wrong. I couldn't let myself hope. I couldn't even think it."

"But you would," Nox said quietly.

"I didn't ever want to leave," Theron said, and Nox vowed fiercely,

"Then I will do whatever it takes to ensure you can stay," and meant it.

"I know you will," Theron said, as easily as breathing.

Nox wanted to stay there, her hands on his skin, but the beeping of her comm unit interrupted; she growled, needing this to be _over with_ , but it was a violet priority communication, and their short-range comms hadn't changed since Theron had left so he knew it was urgent--

"I'll be here," Theron promised, a hint of his regular smirk showing he recognised the signal: she had to leave. "I'm not going anywhere," and maybe Nox could start to believe him, a little.


	10. Chapter 10

Nox had barely set three feet outside of the medical wing, Senya watching her, when Hylo found her.

"Commander," Hylo called, striding up. "I have an update for you."

Nox barely kept herself from snarling at the woman; this timing couldn't be worse. "What is it?"

Hylo's pause wasn't remarkable, her face was blandly friendly, but there was an edge to her voice when she said, "It's on your top priority? You asked me to report in four hours. I watched part of the hearing, knew it was wrapping up. Figured I should let you know asap."

Nox felt a chill along her spine: evacuation plans. That was worth interrupting almost anything, and she mentally forgave Hylo.

To Senya, Nox said curtly, "I'll be right back, and we'll finish."

"Is everything all right?" Senya asked, voice stern.

"Go," Nox repeated, folding her arms, and was gratified when Senya left. 

Nox said nothing as she followed Hylo all the way through the base to a secondary landing bay, where several engineers were working on smaller ships. Hylo glanced back at her once or twice, but it must have been just to confirm Nox was still following, as she said nothing until they were tucked behind several crates of something or another, on the lea side of a small craft.

An engineer ran the ship's engines, and the hum set Nox's teeth vibrating unpleasantly. Hylo leaned forward, careful not to touch Nox until Nox sat on a crate, steadying herself on the woman's shoulder. 

That light touch made Hylo relax a little, and she leaned in further to whisper in Nox's ear, "The engine reverb helps mask audio surveillance."

Nox blinked, and Hylo explained, "It's not perfect, but it'll do against most passive listening devices. Figured we could use the privacy."

Nox swallowed. "It's that bad?"

Hylo backed off, shook her head, then tilted it, wavering. The engine cut out, and she closed her mouth, peering around the crate until the ship started up again -- this time quieter, quiet enough she didn't have to speak right into Nox's ear. 

"I've got the numbers," Hylo told her; her voice was angry. "But you aren't gonna like them. I hate them."

"It's that bad," Nox stated.

"With less than twenty four hours' evacuation notice," Hylo said quickly, nearly tripping over her words to get them out, "running every trick in the book and a bunch I know aren't in any book, we can probably manage to evacuate sixty eight percent of the base. Personnel only. We'll lose Odessen entirely."

Nox's stomach plummeted. "So few?" she murmured. 

Odessen's contingent of soldiers fluctuated at any given moment based on what operations the Alliance was running, how many were on leave, were off-planet. And yes, in the last week more had been recalled, so the usual fifteen hundred or so people had swelled to more than ten thousand, but...

"A little more than four thousand left behind," Hylo said flatly. "At least. I ran a few scenarios where we only got a third of our ships in the air at all. So, yeah. It's that bad."

Nox covered her mouth, closed her eyes and fought not to throw up. She couldn't, she wouldn't-- Visz couldn't see her like this-- Nox couldn't let people know this was a weakness, or they would-- her enemies would--

"Commander?" Hylo said quietly. "I'm sorry for interrupting, I just... I figured you should know before everything was, done and dusted. Just in case."

Nox shuddered, felt her hands shake. Hylo wanted her to know in case she made a mistake the Alliance couldn't come back from. Damn _everything_. Yesterday, she might have, too. Nox rubbed her mouth, opened her eyes again. 

Said hoarsely, "I knew it wouldn't be... optimistic. But, so many."

"With forty-eight hours' notice," Hylo offered, "it's almost a full evac?"

No scenario would ever give them that much time, Nox knew. She took a breath, closed her eyes again. Exhaled, tried to let go of her fear-- no luck at all. 

So she inhaled, and instead of letting it go, Nox clenched her jaw. "So we need a back-up plan," she told Hylo. "And quickly."

Hylo hesitated, then clapped Nox on the shoulder lightly. "I'm working on it," she promised. "By the end of the week I think... we should be able to improve the numbers, anyway."

Nox told her, "Aygo's making some staffing changes to factor in, secondary extraction points." 

Hylo frowned, and Nox watched as she thought about it. "In that case... Another week, and some luck? We'll cut casualties in half, even in the worst-case scenario. With two weeks' prep I think we'll have a fighting chance to minimize our losses. We just need..."

Nox nodded, bit out, "I will buy you whatever time you need," and felt her heart pound wildly. "Until we have an escape plan," Nox vowed.

Time to play diplomat. They could not appear vulnerable, and they could not invite attack. And Nox... Nox had to hold the forces still loyal to her, she had to hold them all together.

Somehow.

Hylo nodded, faint smile in place. "I gotta admit," she said, "I was surprised a Sith would be so intent on having an exit strategy. But I'm glad."

Nox flung herself off the crate-- she couldn't wait any longer. Had to start making contingencies. Nox hated the war. Hated everything about it, but... 

"I never cared for power as much as I cared for surviving it," Nox admitted to Hylo: there, her barest secret, hanging out there. Perhaps it was fine; not that many believed she craved security as much as power, even those who knew her well. Even her fellow Sith on the Dark Council had seen her impulsiveness and recklessness and assumed she wanted the power for its own sake, instead of a means to an end.

Well, whatever power she had, Nox would put to use. And if she could not evacuate the base, if her forces weren't loyal--

"Perhaps it's time to find out if people _want_ to leave," Nox murmured. "We'd be assured those who stayed were Alliance, first. And those who left--"

She cut herself off: those who left, Republic, Imperial or otherwise, would be one less body on a transport, allowing for more of those who stayed to live.

To say it out loud would be the worst sort of wartime calculus, but apparently Hylo heard it anyway. Moreover, the woman nodded once, and seemed to agree.

"If they're going to leave anyway," Nox said, hating herself for it, "better that it's now. So we know. So we don't-- so we don't have to do anything else."

"You'd make a good thief," Hylo said, and Nox knew it was a compliment of the highest order.

Because of it, Nox gave her the ghost of a grin. "I think I'd have enjoyed it far more than whatever else I've ended up being," she replied, and tried not to think of all the ways the Alliance could crumble in the next two weeks.

"Get me some breathing room," Hylo promised, "and I'll get us out of the woods."

Nox nodded. She could do that. Even if it meant joining the war.

-

Nox went back to medical, to Theron, with the weight of four thousand of her forces on her mind. It was different, felt different, than her rage, her fear over Theron -- and she was glad of that.

Arcann fell into step beside her as she entered the medical wing. "Waiting for me?" Nox asked.

"You're troubled," he offered.

He hadn't asked her, simply stated it as fact, so Nox could easily ignore him; but Arcann had lead people into battle, Arcann had commanded armies. It was his brother who commanded loyalty. It was Arcann who'd commanded war. But, no; perhaps it was more complicated.

"What are you thinking of?" he asked.

"I wonder how your brother did it," Nox said without thinking. "All those people on Zakuul. They loved him."

She winced, realizing how tactless it was: grief for his family was seeded deep in Arcann's heart, and she felt his emotions flare up, anger and sadness and strain, before he calmed himself. "I don't know," he replied, honestly.

Nox figured. The two of them were who were left, and neither she nor Arcann deserved the loyalty of those who'd followed them. Maybe that was the answer. And yet, looking into the isolation room, staring through the open door, Nox saw Theron, and knew he'd thrown away everything he'd ever wanted, his entire life -- and more than that, everything he'd ever believed in -- because he'd backed her.

It had better be enough. It was all she had to offer.

When Nox went to join them, Senya turned to her, waiting, and suddenly Nox knew exactly what to say. It might make things worse, but... no. Quite possibly it would make things worse. And yet, it had to be said.

Hylo needed time, or space, or both-- and this would do it.

With the knowledge came a great, pulsing sense of calm; she could feel her own heartbeat and for a moment, the heartbeats of everyone on Odessen, everyone's loyalties and petty angers, everyone's blood beating in their arteries. Her people. For now. Maybe, for later.

"Take that off," she demanded, pointing at the tracking anklet on Theron's leg. "And the binders."

Senya didn't hesitate, and removed the shackles. Nox looked at the monitoring camera, at the holoscreen where the tribunal was visible, waiting for her word.

Lana said, "Your orders?"

"Broadcast to the base," Nox ordered. When Lana nodded, indicating they were ready, Nox took a breath.

She could do this.

"Many of you are wondering what I intend to do about the traitor. About Agent Shan." She gulped, twisted her fingers together in her sleeves, down where the camera wouldn't see. "As you all know, Alliance senior leadership has spent the better part of the day examining his actions. I'm now ready to render judgment--"

Nox cut herself off, dropped her gaze. Lana watched her, concerned, and out of the corner of her eye she saw Theron start to move; to him, to them both, she held her hands up: stay back.

For whatever ridiculously unwise decision, the Alliance rested on her shoulders, these people followed her. It had to be her. Just her.

"I know you," she said, more quietly. "All of us, every single one of us here has made mistakes, cost people their lives, their planets. Cost the galaxy. Especially myself."

Nox swallowed.

"I can't render judgment. Nothing I've done has meant I'm able, not when I deserve judgment, too. But I can promise you: the Alliance won't allow such mistakes to get in the way of. Of what we will accomplish. Agent Shan intended to do what was right, no different than when Darth Marr and myself went to try and stop Emperor Vitiate deep in Wild Space."

Nox paused, wondering if it was wise to remind her forces of this, but; they were here, this was the crossroads, and if they had to hear it, to decide whether to leave, she had to say it out loud.

She told the camera, voice steady, "And I started a war that burned the galaxy down."

There.

Maybe things would change. Probably people would leave, those that hadn't remembered she was capable of making mistakes. Maybe the early Alliance would remember what it was like when they were camping in the woods, on the run from Zakuul and barely surviving, and Theron was right there with them, and they'd pull together and pull off a miracle.

But there it was: Hylo's space to manoeuvre. 

Nox fisted her hands, and told her Alliance, "If you believe I can still fix things after that, then we can keep it together. Then Agent Shan can earn your trust once more. We all make mistakes, and that can't stop us from, from continuing. And the Alliance will continue."

Purposefully now, Nox paused, hoping the words settled into her people, that she might reach at least a few, remind them of what mattered. She said, "And, if you can't believe that, if we all can't... the Alliance is doomed."

She nodded curtly, to Lana, who cut the feed, eyes narrowed. Nox knew Lana wanted to ask, knew--

"Not, not now," she told Lana, "Just, not yet," and fled the room.

-

Lana allowed her over an hour to hide in the rafters of the largest hanger, before coming to find her.

"Are you allowing guests in your new quarters?" Lana called up to her, "or shall I come back later?"

Nox rolled her eyes, and jumped off the durasteel beam; she glared at the other woman. "I wasn't hiding," Nox protested.

"Of course you weren't," Lana reassured her. "I got a message from Captain Visz, by the way." Nox's mouth went dry, as Lana told her, "She's got some ideas for ops she needed sign-off for. Piracy is apparently becoming more of a problem. Word about the Eternal Fleet being recalled was bad enough, but somehow the Order sent out over the holonet that it was destroyed."

"Damn and double damn it all," Nox swore. Still. "Get Hylo whatever she needs," she told Lana.

Lana raised an eyebrow. "Are you going to tell me what's going on?" she asked.

"Eventually," Nox said. "Not-- not yet."

Lana gestured for Nox to precede her out of the hanger, but instead of going back into the base, Nox wandered out through the open hanger doors to the outside.

"Odessen really is a beautiful planet," Nox said. She tilted her head up, let herself feel the sun on her face. Closed her eyes.

"I didn't think it would ever feel so much like home," Lana replied. Nox looked at her; Lana looked, calm. She felt calm, in the Force, too. In balance.

"It suits you," Nox said honestly. Turned away from Lana. "Sometimes I wish it suited me more."

Lana put a hand on her forearm, and said delicately, "You have always been someone worth following."

"I envy you sometimes," Nox told her. "The way you... I don't know. I never. Sometimes I hate the Sith code. The Sith way. I hate the Jedi way. None of it fits."

"You've built something else, here," Lana told her, sweeping her hand back toward the base.

Nox turned to look at her forces -- where even now, she knew, Nox knew, many of them were wondering whether to abandon the Alliance and go back to the thrice damned pointless war.

No. For those who had loyalties, for those who believed in something, or for those who had feelings of home, it wasn't pointless. Nox might resent it, but those ties, just because she felt none of them -- they weren't nothing.

She looked back to Odessen, tried to centre herself in the Force on its eddies and swirls, tried to feel her anger as well as let it pass through her. After a minute, she did feel a little bit calmer.

"I know you value the Alliance's neutrality," Lana started.

Nox sighed. All sense of balance fled. "Hylo simulated several evac plans," she muttered to Lana. "None of them went well."

Lana looked away. "Ah."

So she, too, had been thinking it. "We need-- I need-- to buy the Alliance some time, and space. Play both sides for time. We have to tread carefully, but..."

"You wouldn't rather try and solidify our ties to Empress Acina?" Lana asked.

To her credit, she sounded curious more than anything, so Nox let herself believe Lana was really asking because she wanted to know. "I don't trust her," Nox said. "It was fine when we were equally dangerous, the same sized firaxan circling each other. I feel rather like a small, tasty fish right about now, and I don't like it. We need to get out of dangerous waters, not get closer to the sharks."

"Fair enough," Lana agreed. "I will give you that Acina is cunning. She's given us no reason to doubt her word, but then again, we've never been in a position where she could be sure of challenging us, either."

"I need to show Acina I'm not a threat to her power," Nox mused, thinking aloud, "but we need to balance that with making sure the Republic doesn't retaliate against us for Malcom and Iokath."

"You don't want much, then," Lana said, disbelieving.

"Perhaps...." Nox hesitated, but said, "perhaps we should ask Theron to reach out to SIS. Join them."

Lana blinked. Still, she replied to the easy part, first. "I don't believe Theron has much sway over most of SIS, these days," she said. "I'll try, but it might be easier to use Major Jorgan. I think he knows someone."

That would allow the Alliance to make overtures, without committing completely. Still. "It's a solid plan, use Jorgan as main contact. But I want them to know I'm behind it," Nox said. "I want SIS to know they have the Alliance Commander on board. Otherwise it's pointless."

Another long moment of silence, in which Lana studied her.

"Commander, are you sure about this? You want to reach out to the Republic. We could easily throw the two of them against each other long enough to buy us some time, unless this is about--"

Lana cut herself off, staring.

Ah. So Lana had realized this had to do with Theron.

Nox winced a little, inwardly; Lana was so rarely shocked, so rarely taken off guard, that for Nox to have done so now could mean anything.

"Are you sure?" Lana asked her seriously. "I understand you want to make amends, but joining the Republic is rather a permanent way to apologize. Or prove your loyalty, I'm not sure what you're trying to do, since Theron is the one that betrayed you, not the other way around." 

But she hadn't refused. She hadn't threatened to leave.

Lana would not leave her. Not even over this.

It settled into Nox's bones. Lana would not leave. Nox was on her way to believing it, again. One day, maybe, she would believe it fully once more.

Lana studied her, a bit of a smug smirk in the slight upward tilt of one side of her mouth. Quietly, she said, "You really are willing to risk throwing away a lifetime of Imperial allegiance, a chance at returning to the Dark Council, possibly even a chance to be the second most powerful person in the entire Sith Empire... for, a boy."

She said it without hardly any inflection, the slight emphasis on 'boy' the only suggestion of her true feelings: this was monumentally stupid.

Nox couldn't help but grin at her, showing teeth. "You forget, I never was much of an Imperial loyalist," she corrected Lana.

"And the chance for that kind of power?" Lana crossed her arms. "If not for yourself, then to protect everything you've built here?"

"Everything you've managed to build," Nox corrected again. "I had little to do with the actual allying part of this Alliance. That was you." And Theron, she didn't have to say. 

Nox sighed. "A large part of me wishes I were the kind of person who could sufficiently reward the kind of loyalty you've shown. Throw our lot in with Acina. But I'm too selfish."

"I'll follow you whatever you choose, Commander," Lana told her seriously. "That is the reward. I'm not one that strives for power."

"Neither am I, anymore," Nox told her, and it was the truth.

"So if you don't care about the power," Lana asked, "what do you care about?"

Nox shrugged. "Survival has always been my highest priority," she said. "Everything I've done has been to try and protect the Alliance from crumbling -- keeping our independence, keeping our forces from having to choose between us and their former allegiances. Ensuring our resources aren't dependent on others. I've done these things because it doesn't matter how strong our military forces are if we can't weather the coming storm ourselves."

"You've done a good job," Lana said. "And we'll keep on protecting our own interests. What I don't understand is how stronger ties with the Empire wouldn't help that cause."

"It has recently come to my attention that, losing certain... things." She dropped her head: unconsciously, she'd started twisting her hands together, outward sign of distress. Nox forced herself to drop her arms.

Meeting Lana's gaze, Nox told the other woman, "As much as I care about the survival of the Alliance, recent events have brought to my attention that whatever else I have, whatever power, prestige, no matter what, I personally cannot survive-- I cannot bear--"

"Losing Theron," Lana finished for her, softly. "Well, I suppose that puts it into perspective."

"Whatever it takes to keep him," Nox whispered. That's what she required for survival. The last few months proved it.

She could suffer losing the Fleet; she could suffer losing almost everyone around her. She'd lost her position and her wealth and her power base when Arcann put her in carbonite, and worked with Lana and Theron to build the Alliance up from scratch, better than her Sith pyramid, more sturdy, more loyal. Kinder, more compassionate, thanks to the Republic influence, and yet stronger too.

If standing behind Theron lost her what little of the Alliance remained... forfeit everything, hah. Nox was an expert at that. She could weather that. She could handle having no more strength or power than an apprentice. She could handle fighting for scraps. In a way, it would be more familiar, more comforting, than commanding legions.

It was what she'd known, for so long.

"I've found the one loss I can't live through," Nox told Lana. "Ironic, given how many times I've died already. It's not the only reason I want to reach out to SIS, but. Now you know."

Lana smiled. "I suppose I knew it before," she admitted. "After all, I saw your face when Atrius nearly killed him."

"And I saw yours," Nox countered.

"I hardly think it was the same," Lana shot back. Then her face grew serious. "He was my partner, in all of it, the Alliance, fighting Arcann... even your rescue from Zakuul," Lana said quietly. "He was -- he, he is, he has to be, still, so he is," she muttered, then shook her head. "The last six years have been hard, Commander, and Theron was the only other person I trusted to keep you safe. Thinking I had lost that, I'd lost half of what mattered."

She straightened up, said briskly, "So yes. I was frightened he wouldn't make it. I wanted him to live, because I wanted my partner back. Even now, even after everything... I don't think I can trust anyone else to protect you -- how did he put it? 'As fiercely as I would'."

"Well," Nox drawled, "I suppose we'd better get Theron back in the game, if we're considering switching sides," and until she said it out loud, Nox hadn't really believed it would happen; that she and Lana, that the Alliance, could forgive Theron his trespasses, and let him back into the fold.

"Are you ready for that?" Lana asked.

"Not in the slightest," Nox said, and grinned, fiercely joyful -- she spied Theron enter the hanger -- limping, battered, but alive. Nox told Lana, "But that's never stopped me before. So let's go."


End file.
